


Running On Empty

by AngelicPretty



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Character Death, Control Issues, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Mild Gore, Noncon/Dubcon elements, On the Run, Physical Abuse, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-02-03 06:20:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 95,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1734242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicPretty/pseuds/AngelicPretty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Dethklok chooses not to save Toki. Instead, Magnus still has his ‘I’m a shitbag’ revelation and decides to take matters into his own hands. With Toki unwilling to return to the ones who left him for dead, the two end up on the run together trying to stay alive while the Assassin hunts them down. Emotional tension is high for the two and Magnus’ controlling and violent tendencies only exacerbate matters further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pity

**Author's Note:**

> This fic's AU takes place after the first chapter of my previous fic Best Friends, but before the second chapter for obvious reasons.

Two months to the day. Two months since the funeral. Two months since he’d been sure things would work out the way he’d planned.

Two fucking godforsaken months and nothing had really changed.

The Gears that had attempted to save their hostages had begun to dwindle until it seemed as if they were no longer even trying. The Assassin had ordered Magnus to leak more information about their location, and he had done so on multiple occasions, hoping to finally get Dethklok to come to them. While he didn’t doubt the band was too stupid to piece together the leaked information, Magnus refused to believe that Ofdensen would be unable to figure it out. But nothing was happening now. And nothing had happened in a very long time.

Until now, the Assassin kept himself busy, converting and rallying his growing Revengencer numbers, probably going out to take hits to keep his frustration and bloodlust at bay while he waited. But Magnus did very little and the longer he was idle and left to his thoughts, the more disillusioned he became. His only job now was keeping Abigail and Toki alive, but it felt like taking care of chained up dogs in a yard. At first, it’d felt beyond incredible to do whatever he wanted to them, to Toki especially. While holding someone’s fragile fate in his hands, watching someone he hated suffer and crumble and deteriorate under his actions, seeing the fear and horror that his very presence inflicted in those once innocent eyes - he felt more alive than he had in almost ten years.

But now the excitement was fading, slowly replaced by an ugly reality. Once beautifully bruised and scarred and quick to obey, to respond to his touch, Toki was now reduced to something barely alive, barely aware, barely more than a tattered shell. After two months of torture and malnutrition, chained to the floor, why was Magnus so surprised to see his body so withered away? Why, only now, did Toki’s eyes, dilated and dead and sunken into his skull, unsettle him when he usually found his bleeding, bruising, crying, suffering so incredibly breathtaking? The only movement he was capable of was the labored but slow rise and fall of his chest as his head rested in Abigail’s lap, silent and detached to not only the pain in his body, but certainly the pain in his heart.

Toki had known far longer than Magnus that the band would never come.

And one day, while finding himself delivering a little more food than usual, it became clear to him that Toki was no longer succumbing to Magnus himself. Death was pulling him under.

Any desire to continue his indulgences left him. He’d rationalized it before, reminding himself this was all a part of his long sought revenge, but now… He’d always wanted to exact his revenge on the band more than Toki, who had just been the bait in his plan. But he was beginning to realize that he’d _made_ himself hate Toki. He came to hate Toki for being younger and more skilled, for taking his place in the band and subsequently his place in fame, glory, history…

But he didn’t deserve to die. And neither did Abigail, who until recently had been entirely uninvolved in matters related to Dethklok.

He stood over them now, needle in his hand. Abigail looked up at him through tired eyes, then returned her attention to running her hands, blackened with dirt, through Toki’s hair. He was asleep, as usual, and thus nearly unable to be awoken. Lately, Magnus found the shots to be easier this way. It saved him from having to face that resigned, trembling expression that had begun to surface in his mind during his all too frequent idle moments. He knelt down, lifting Toki’s thin arm and administered the shot in silence. Toki’s stomach was riddled with needle tracks, now infected from being unable to keep the skin and punctures clean. Pulling the needle from his skin, Magnus noticed his arm was beginning to look similar.

As he stood to leave, Magnus wondered if he had grown bored with a broken toy whose novelty had worn off. Or perhaps this change of mind was simply because nothing was coming from the revenge he’d planned. Closing and locking the door behind him, he hesitated at the foot of the stairs. But what if this was real, genuine pity he was feeling? There _was_ something pitiable about it all. The Toki Magnus had “befriended” had been long stripped away, and he suspected he would never be quite the same again. Magnus was certain he had already killed that Toki, and if things continued as they were, he would be responsible for the death of what remained of him. Pity, he told himself, pity was all it was.

And yet, the issue followed him back to his apartment. He fought with himself more than he would have liked through the rest of the night, debating between where the fault should lie. Of course it was primarily the band’s fault for not coming for them. But if Magnus hadn’t been seeking his own revenge, the Assassin surely would have chosen someone else in the band – maybe Nathan or Skwisgaar – any one of those shitstains would have been a better choice than Toki. More vital to making the band what it was, they would never have given up on Nathan. And Nathan deserved to suffer _so_ much more.

Magnus sighed, rolling over on the couch he’d been sleeping on the past few weeks. Suffer? Yes. Die? He turned the volume of the TV up a few clicks, wishing he could drown out his thoughts. He wanted to make Dethklok miserable, strip their fame from them, and toss them in prison to rot. But as much as he hated them, and despite his rage-induced mood swings, he didn’t want anyone to die. He never intended for anyone to _die_. He suddenly found himself standing and moving over to his desk, littered with sheets of music and guitar tabs. Most were abandoned plans or half written ideas, none finished. Those that had neared completion were scattered about in shreds.

With little regard for his neighbors below, he knocked the stack of books he would never read to the floor and sat, pulling open the desk’s drawer and digging through more shit he knew needed to be thrown away. His fingers met something cold and glossy. Hoping it wouldn’t be there, he felt his heart skip a beat at the touch. Of course it was still there. It wouldn’t disappear by pretending it didn’t exist for all these years. Exhaling slowly, he pulled the photograph out from under the papers. Rooting his elbow to the desk and holding his head up with his free hand, Magnus gazed down at the picture from nearly ten years ago. The five of them were still smiling. Still excited with their lives. So sure they would change the world with their music. He dropped the picture on the desk and hunched over it, hands folded and pressed against his forehead as he tried to purge his mind of the memories the picture had dragged out. These were the assholes he wanted to get revenge on so desperately. These were the moronic assholes he would never admit he missed. He hated them so much it made his blood boil, so much that the only thing he felt would make him happy would be seeing them stripped of their own happiness. But he never wanted someone to die because of him.

But of course, the following day, he came to realize he had never been the one to decide that.


	2. Guilt

The Assassin was at the end of his patience. Veins throbbed in his arms and neck as he barked commands to the more sentient of his underlings, only turning as Magnus cautiously approached.

“Magnus. Kill one of them.” His sudden orders were like a roll of thunder in the pit of Magnus’ stomach.

“What?” He had spent the night thankful he hadn’t been put in this position.

“You heard me.”

“Look, I didn’t-”

“ _Kill one._ Or I’ll be leaving _three_ heads on their doorstep.” The Assassin took the slightest step forward.

Magnus’ face fell as a chill ran down his spine and moved back. No one could argue with this emotionless monster of a man and come out alive. Magnus pressed his lips together, nodding slightly. “Fine.” Wary of turning his back to the Assassin, he took a few steps backwards before finally turning and heading to the basement.

“Kill the girl.”

“…Of course.” Best not to kill the more valuable hostage, after all. He stopped suddenly as an idea came to him. “But before I kill her… Can I get a little time with them alone? _I’ll_ find _you_ when I’m done.”

Understanding the implications, the Assassin groaned and waved his hand as if dismissing the matter before stomping off in agitation. Clenching his jaw, Magnus slipped down the stairs to the basement, grabbing the keys to the collars that hung outside the door. He entered their room and shut the door quietly behind him, leaning back against it and finally letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. The knife holstered horizontally to his belt pressed against his lower back, reminding him of its presence and what would soon be required of it.

Surprisingly, Toki was awake, sitting against their broken wall and staring up at the crack in the ceiling that provided them with their only light source. He and Abigail looked over at Magnus with a bit of a delay, both unfazed.

Already on edge, the sound of heavy footsteps from above caused Magnus to push himself from the door, rip his knife from his belt and stride over to his victims. Wasting no time, he knelt and pulled Abigail’s head back by her hair before pressing the blade firmly against her throat under the collar. She stared up at him like a lamb at the slaughter. Although she had always been in far better condition than Toki, starvation was taking its toll on her clarity and usually sharp wit.

“Will this finally be enough for you…?” She closed her eyes, surrendering. “Toki…” She searched blindly for his hand and squeezed it, preparing for her long expected end.

“Magnus… Please…” His eyes widened slightly at the voice. It was the first time he’d heard Toki speak in two weeks. “Please don’ts do this…”

“…I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’ll kills me too, right?” He was pleading more than asking. At Magnus’ telling silence, his eyes grew wet. “Don’t leaves me alone downs here… Please don’t do this…”

Magnus felt a weight on his arm and, looking down, saw Toki had grabbed his sleeve. With a shudder, he pulled back immediately, ripping himself away from Toki’s touch.

“I didn’t want this!” He reeled back, throwing the knife across the ground. The clang of metal seemed to echo through the silent emptiness in unison with his outburst. Magnus gripped at his head as his mind churned. Wasn’t he supposed to be the hero? Wasn’t it _good_ to give them what they deserved after wronging him and so many others? The world was supposed to thank him for throwing those dangerous, selfish assholes in prison. But being a murderer was never part of the plan.

Something cold and metal touched his fingertips and he suddenly realized he was reaching for the key in his pocket. It reminded him of the reason why he subconsciously decided to bring it with him at all. He knew he had more than one choice.

“Hypocrite.” Abigail’s sudden voice nearly startled him. She glared up at him through half-lidded eyes. “What are you afraid of? Losing some part of your humanity? Because I have news for you…” She broke out into laughter, but even that seemed drained.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m going to get you both out of here.” His voice spoke on its own volition. The decision had been made for him as his hands withdrew the key and began unlocking Abigail’s collar. As if unsure of what else to do, she caught it as it slipped from her neck. Magnus turned to free Toki next, but as he reached out for him, Toki jerked away, scuffling backwards until he hit the wall behind him. Magnus closed in again and quickly unlocked his collar as well, ignoring the way Toki flinched as his hands drew nearer.

Heavy footsteps from above caused Magnus’ heart to skip a beat and kickstart the adrenaline as the gravity of his decision finally fell upon him. There was no way this was going to work. This plan was suicide… but a small voice in the back of his head tried to convince him that suicide was, at this point, the only real option he had. But they would all three be killed if no one tried anything… and he was the only one who could.

“Before I change my mind, can you walk?” Magnus asked Abigail, shooting a glance at her legs.

“This isn’t going to work. We’re dead the moment he sees us.”

“Look,” Magnus began, his patience growing thin. “The way I see it, up until now, you both _were_ going to die. But now you’ve got the chance to escape. And just a minute ago, Toki over there was begging for me to put him down. You either get out, or all this bullshit stops. Sounds like a win-win to me. And either way, it all ends tonight. So what’s it gonna be?”

Abigail’s venom-coated glare softened as she began to see Magnus’ point. Without moving, her eyes shifted over to Toki, who had buried his face in his hands.

“I think I can walk… But he can’t even stand.”

“I’ll support him.” A strange mix of terror and relief washed over Magnus at Abigail’s concession. He knew the path they had to take once they got up the stairs, but the odds were gravely stacked against them with two crippled people and a floor full of things more akin to zombies than humans.

Using the wall, Abigail pulled herself to her feet with less difficulty than Magnus expected. As she carefully stretched her legs and tried to quell her quivering joints, he turned back to Toki, lifting the collar away from his neck and resting it quietly on the ground. He tried to ignore the way Toki continued to flinch at his every movement.

“Come on,” Magnus muttered, motioning for Toki to stand. “I’m not carrying you entirely.”

“I can’t… I reallies can’t stand…”

Adrenaline high, Magnus was in no mood for excuses now. “You managed to walk before.”

“But that was so longs ago-”

 _“Do you need me to fucking motivate you again?”_ Magnus’ voice came out in a snarl and he suddenly found his hands digging through Toki’s hair as he’d done so many times before. His fingers instinctively tightened as Toki tried to pull away. There was undeniable pleasure in the act, in Toki’s fearful expression, an addiction he thought he had managed to end.

“ _Magnus. Please.”_ Abigail’s voice snapped him out of it, quickly releasing Toki and stepping back.

“If he isn’t even going to try-”

“It is _physically_. _Impossible_. Just look at him for Christ’s sake.” Her voice was stripped of its bitterness for only a moment. “Before you complain, remember who put all of us in this fucking situation to begin with.”

Magnus gritted his teeth but swallowed back his pride. She was right of course. He looked back down at Toki, who had once again curled up, burying his face in his arms and knees. After that brief moment of sadistic pleasure subsided, the recently all too familiar wave of pity washed over him. He exhaled slowly and knelt down.

“Come on,” he repeated. “We’re gonna get you out of here and then you never have to see me again.” Whether they lived or died, it was true enough. He wedged his fingers under Toki’s upper arm, urging him to raise it. Silently, Toki obeyed, allowing Magnus to slip under Toki’s arm and hoist him over his shoulder. He nearly shot up as he rose to his feet, expecting, for some foolish reason, Toki to weigh more than he did. He’d made a big deal about carrying him as if it’d weigh him down but feeling more bone than flesh carve into his shoulder and back, Magnus knew just how wrong he’d been.

“Get to the door and I’ll check the first floor before we try anything.” Feeling Toki slip already, Magnus grabbed the wrist of the arm anchored round his neck and rested his free hand Toki’s back as if to guide him. He began walking. Though Magnus had to hunch slightly just for Toki’s bare feet to reach the floor and they sometimes dragged against the ground, with Magnus as a crutch, Toki surprisingly managed to support himself just enough to lessen the burden. He headed towards the door, relieved to hear Abigail successfully following behind them.

“Say we get out…” Now standing before the threshold, Abigail’s voice was low. “What then?”

Lowering Toki to the floor, Magnus gritted his teeth at the question. He admittedly hadn’t thought too far ahead, but the answer came quickly. “I have a car. Swapped plates and everything. I drop you two off as close to the band as I can, then I get the fuck out of this goddamn state.” Or _something_. He’d figure out what to do with himself if he could get there.

The three fell silent, all afraid of what came next. There’d be no going back.

“It’s now or never.” Magnus withheld a sigh. They couldn’t afford to waste any more time. “Just stay here. I’ll be right back.” He reached for the handle, but stopped short as he remembered he'd thrown his knife to the floor. Not willing to walk into danger without it, he ran back for it and slipped it back into the sheath. He returned to the door and, carefully pulling down the handle, pushed the door open and slithered as quietly as possible up the metal stairs. Getting the two up them without echoing footsteps throughout the rather bare building would be difficult. He finally reached the top and peered past the walls. It was hauntingly empty. The doors to outside stood innocuously just across the wide, vacant foyer. A chill ran down his spine at the hope of an easy escape… and the potential of being caught off guard. But it was a chance they had to take. Returning to the two, he quickly lifted Toki back up. He instructed Abigail to move lightly and slowly up the steps and ordered Toki not to drag his feet along them. Without another word, he opened the door and led them up.

Checking once more behind the walls of the stairwell, Magnus hesitated. It was too easy. There were usually a few Revengencers loitering around. Still, he didn’t want to risk losing the opportunity of having to face none. With a nod of his head, he let Abigail slip out first before setting out after her, Toki still in tow. As they drew nearer and nearer to the exit, he tried to quell the building excitement in his chest. He picked up speed in another rush of adrenaline and moved past the hobbling Abigail, stopping for a moment to lower himself and readjust Toki until he was carried entirely on his back. This allowed him to break into a sprint for the door. If he could put Toki down outside, he could come back to pick up Abigail.

He ran and ran and ran without looking back. Toki clung tightly around his shoulders, face buried into his hair and the crook of his neck. In pure disbelief, Magnus finally felt the cold metal of the doorknob and turned it. It was unlocked. He took this chance to turn around and see how far behind Abigail had fallen.

He instantly froze.

There was a glint of metal in the darkness of the hallway behind her. As Magnus’ eyes widened, Abigail’s face fell in knowing terror. She broke into a limping sprint, pushing her body’s limit out of sheer fear. Magnus stepped forward only slightly, locked in place by the promise of the door just behind him.

“ _MAGNUS!_ ”

He felt Toki tense and look up with a jolt at the deafening sound. It was a roar worse than any crack of thunder Magnus had ever heard. His blood ran cold and his hair stood on end, and he desperately tried to move but his entire body had been paralyzed. The Assassin closed in on them with a mockingly slow gait. He still had the time to do _something_ \- he wanted to run out to her and pick her up, but he still had Toki on his back. He had to make another decision.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Magnus opened the door, intending on dropping Toki off outside and ordering him to crawl as far away as he could get. Outside, he wouldn’t have to see Magnus and Abigail being slaughtered if Magnus couldn’t run fast enough. This would have given them a chance, he was certain –

Abigail tripped just as Magnus pulled the door open. She curled inwards, clutching and gasping at her side. Even through the filthied white of her shirt, Magnus could see a dark stain seeping into the fabric. His shitty stitchwork had probably torn open at her exertion. Knowing he couldn’t waste anymore time gawking in horror, he attempted to step outside to drop off the burden on his back, but was quickly met with a sharp kick in his side.

Thinking they were abandoning her, Toki retaliated. With Magnus stunned, he was nearly dropped to the ground but, gripping Magnus’ shirt from behind, managed to stay on his feet.

He tried to run to Abigail, but Magnus caught him from behind, holding him back and trying to turn him around, but Toki twisted right back around and tore free from his grip with such surprising, desperate violence Magnus was slammed back against the metal door, his head cracking against it with resounding force. Without his support, Toki thrust himself towards Abigail only for his legs to give out beneath him.

As they struggled, the Metal Masked Assassin had drawn closer in his agonizingly foreboding pace. He towered over Abigail now, who had attempted to stand again but had doubled over as the embedded fishing wire in her back and stomach tore.

Half stunned and half resigned to death, Magnus watched in a dizzy haze as Toki dragged himself towards Abigail despite her shaking her head in protest and the monster looming over her. They still had no less than forty feet between them. For every three panicked and pained steps Abigail took, the Assassin only took one to close in on her again and again. His presence, his stench of death, his silence, all behind Abigail brought her to her knees. Every step was futile. There was no escape now. Not for her.

Her tearful gaze moved from Toki to Magnus before returning to her friend of two months. She muttered something that Magnus could not hear. Toki shook his head violently but Abigail was done arguing and the Assassin was done waiting.

“JUST RUN!”

A large, rough hand gripped her by the neck, preventing her from uttering anything else and lifting her from the ground entirely. Blood seeped from her wound down her side and leg. She clawed instinctively at the hand around her neck but it was clear she had given up.

Magnus rose to his feet automatically. He could still get out while the Assassin was busy with his _real_ prisoners. He could still live to see another day. He started to move but the Assassin began speaking.

“It could have been simple, Magnus.” There was the sound of feet shuffling behind him in the darkness. The Revengencers had finally arrived. He fisted a hand through Abigail’s hair. “You just had to kill the fucking bitch.”

There was a sickening snap and Abigail’s body went limp. The last dull light in her eyes was extinguished and Toki broke into hysterics.

Magnus felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. It was that easy. She was dead. The shock numbed his body and mind. He'd failed and now the evening would end with all three dead.

"It was that easy."

“ _Fuck you_.” It slipped out his mouth without permission and Magnus thought hopefully his voice had been lost amidst Toki’s wails. But the Assassin smirked.

“Do you really think…” He brought his sword up, letting it shine in the dim light. “That _killing_ someone would be the worst thing you’ve done?”

Magnus was suddenly aware of the hungry eyes staring at him. He pressed his back against the cool metal of the door, wishing he could slip straight through it. He knew they stared at him with hunger and nothing else, but he felt as if they looked on him in judgment.

“I let you have your fun, Magnus.” He pressed the blade against Abigail’s neck, dragging it back and forth as if slicing a delicate steak. Bright red stained the silver as he worked away at it. “I’ve been bored for two months, so now you’re going to let me have mine.” The blade had made its way through Abigail’s neck, severing her head from her body, which hit the floor with a hollow _thump_. Immediately the Revengencers emerged from behind him, storming the body at his feet like a pack of hyenas around their prey. The Assassin held Abigail’s head up by the hair, dangling it over hunched over backs of his followers for Toki to see.

“Now,” he growled, “ _run_.”

Magnus ran to Toki’s side and dove to his knees in an attempt to lift Toki’s arm over his shoulders again, but Toki continued thrashing violently, clawing frantically at the ground to pull himself closer to the feasting zombies, to tear them apart and save Abigail’s body from being defiled, to touch her just one last time. Screaming and sobbing, louder than Magnus had ever heard him, he repeated Abigail’s name, begging _no, no, please, no_ over and over. He fought with Magnus, but weak and struggling to breathe, Magnus finally won, slinging him over his shoulders again and fleeing with his tail between his legs out that goddamn fucking door.

He made it to his car without seeing anyone else. No one was following him. He threw Toki down in the backseat before speeding off. His hands would have been shaking if his knuckles weren’t white on the steering wheel and his heart still raced as the images of what he’d just witnessed kept playing in his mind. Toki’s sobbing and gasping dug out that horrible feeling that had been plaguing him these past few weeks. Only now did he realize it was something far worse than pity:

Guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely hate to do this to Abigail. I really do. I really hate fridging ladies but that's just how this had to go down. Without Ishnifus there to die, someone needed to die because of him to jumpstart his guilt and change. Please forgive me.  
> Things are not going to be fun for the two survivors anyway.


	3. Wasting Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More decisions are made.

Magnus didn’t know where to go.

Evening had fallen long ago, but as he drove out of the slums and towards the city, buildings that seemed to glow neon brightened the skies as night settled in. As they drew closer, more cars littered the roads and more people peppered the sidewalks, leaning against the sides of buildings, resting on benches, all of them carefree – Magnus felt claustrophobia creeping through his body. His heart still hammered away as he tried to find somewhere to park, just for a moment, to get away from the busy world around him.

He _wanted_ to go back to the solitude of his apartment where he could pretend none of this had happened, but the sobbing mess in his backseat served as a poignant reminder that he probably wouldn’t be spending another night in his apartment again. His stomach churned as the gravity of his decisions finally pressed down on him. He’d have to leave everything behind if he wanted to live. And then the image of Abigail flashed across his mind and Magnus couldn’t drive anymore. He turned into the parking lot of an empty gas station recklessly and threw the car into a spot furthest from the store’s windows. He parked immediately and turned to Toki, who had at some point gone silent save for the shaking, involuntary gasps that relentlessly rolled over him.

His bloodshot eyes widened as Magnus met his frightened stare. The skin around his eyes was just as red, almost raw, but his face was as white as a sheet. Magnus was slightly taken aback at the way he looked now. There was something unique in this expression that Magnus had never seen nor managed to evoke during their time together in the basement. There might have been the faintest spark of jealousy towards Abigail and the Assassin, that they managed to create this face while he hadn’t been able to, but the thought died as quickly as it came.

“Here,” he muttered, pulling his cellphone from the glove compartment and turning it on. He’d always made sure to shut it off before nearing the old practice building. “I probably won’t be able to use it from now on. Call Dethklok and have them come find you here. I’m not wasting my time driving you up to them just to be killed or arrested. You just stay here and they’ll come and get you within the half hour, I’m sure.” He wagged the phone in front of Toki a few times, but he simply stared vacantly at it in response. “ _Toki_.” His patience was running thin. “Make the fucking call.”

“…No.”

Magnus did a double-take. Toki was _talking back_ to him? “…You wanna repeat that?”

“Please… Don’ts make me go backs to them.” He refused to make eye contact as he spoke, his voice low and timid despite his daring request. Magnus opened his mouth to object but Toki quickly continued. “Please just kill me or-”

“I’m not going to kill you, so stop fucking asking!” Magnus snapped, throwing the phone in Toki’s lap roughly. He got out of the car and tore open Toki’s door, holding it open expectantly. “ _Out_. And keep the fucking phone.” He couldn’t use it for himself anymore anyway and Toki could at the very least call the band or other friends, if Toki even had other friends, until someone picked him up… but it didn’t seem like he was too keen on the idea of calling anyone. Toki sat frozen, eyes cast down on the phone in his hands now. His mouth parted just slightly as if trying to build the courage to speak again but nothing came out. “I don’t have all day.” Finally reaching the limit of his patience, Magnus grabbed Toki by the arm to drag him out of the car, maybe ditch him next to the ice freezers, but Toki finally looked up in desperation.

“I can’ts go back.”

“And why the fuck not?” There was hesitation in his voice – he knew exactly why.

“They don’ts want me.” Toki had never held such strong eye contact with Magnus before, even when Magnus had forced him to look at him.

“So? You have more money than god. Take what’s yours and tell ‘em to go fuck themselves.” The idea of having even half as much money as Toki probably did was almost unimaginable to Magnus. Why anyone would intentionally forsake it was beyond him.

“I-I don’ts…” Toki finally broke away, shaking his head. “I don’ts evers want to see them agains.”

“Fine. I don’t care what you do. Just get out of the car.”

“Please-”

“Do I look like I fucking have time for this?!” Magnus viciously jerked Toki by the arm, pulling him out of the car without another word. Toki tried his best to stay on his feet, but his knees buckled under him again and he fell to the oil-stained concrete.

“Please…” Toki crumpled at Magnus’ feet, forehead nearly touching the pavement. His back shook with restrained sobs. “Don’ts leave me alones… Abigail is gone… And I can’ts…” He surrendered to the onslaught of silent tears once again, forehead finally touching the filthy gas station ground that looked far cleaner than Toki in comparison.

To say Magnus was shocked was an understatement. He tried to relax his jaw, which he hadn’t realized he’d begun clenching, but every part of his body was tense as panic began to set in. They were just wasting time. Every second he argued with Toki was another second closer to certain death. And yet, with Toki at his feet, crying out the last reserves of tears his starved and dehydrated body could muster, even more pitiful now than ever before from the grief over Abigail, Magnus knew he couldn’t just leave him for dead. Not after everything he did, everything he sacrificed, just to get Toki out of that basement. No, if Toki died, it all would have been for nothing. But he wanted to hear it from Toki himself.

“So you want to come with me?”

Toki didn’t utter a single word, but the way he swallowed hard, willing his trembling breathing to be still, spoke enough for Magnus.

He knelt down, lifting Toki’s head by his hair out of habit until their eyes met again. Magnus narrowed his glare as tears streamed in silence down those sunken in cheeks dusted with dirt, muddied by the tears, and still so pale. “ _You_ want to come with _me?_ ” He spoke slowly, ridiculing the thought. “You want me to waste my time and effort on you? You want to make whatever’s left of my goddamn life harder than it has to be? And after everything that I’ve done to you? Imagine all the terrible things I could do to you tomorrow. And this time _Abigail_ won’t be there to help or comfort you like the _child_ that you _are_.” His voice had grown into a snarl as he tightened his grip in Toki’s hair, jerking his head with every emphasized word.

“Then it’s an offers you can’ts refuse, huh?” Toki’s words were laced with a panicked futility as he tried to straighten the cringe from his face.

He hadn’t expected such a reply in the least, but Magnus felt himself smile. Toki truly was desperate if he was begging like this to stay with his torturer. And yet, Magnus understood his reasoning completely. To make Toki face the ones he once loved that abandoned him so easily, to subject him to the lies and excuses the band would tell him would be torture of a different sort. Again, he was reminded of the guilt that was constantly building within him – hadn’t he convinced himself that Toki didn’t deserve this?

For the last time, Magnus let go of Toki’s hair.

And then reality set back in. They were still wasting time.

“We have to go to my place. Get…things. Money.” He shook his head, knowing their situation was hopeless, as he helped Toki back up into the backseat faster than Toki could understand what was going on. He slammed the door shut, jumped back behind the wheel and, finally returning to the streets, he issued off one last warning. “If you’re not walking by tomorrow, I’m leaving you on the side of the highway.”

He admittedly expected a frail ‘thank you’ in return but Toki, curled up and forehead against his knees, remained perfectly silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect the next chapter to be longer and more dramatic.


	4. Dial Tone

Neither spoke another word until they arrived at Magnus’ apartment complex. The entry gates were broken again, propped open with a cinder block. He couldn’t help but be slightly concerned, but he knew that thin, rusted metal bars could never keep the Assassin away from what he wanted. He parked in his usual spot, glad to keep the car as close as possible should anything go wrong.

“I won’t take more than a few minutes. Just stay here.” He only managed to open the door before a word so quiet he thought he imagined it caught him off guard.

“Can…”

Magnus turned around, narrowing his eyes at Toki. “What now?”

“Can I go… withs you…?” Struggling with the words, he’d brought his face up from his knees, but his eyes remained glued to the mats below the seats.

“It’s on the second floor. Carrying you will just slow me down.”

Though he neither moved nor spoke again, Magnus noticed how Toki’s eyelids fell slightly at his response. Then the thought of coming back to find Toki’s mutilated body scattered throughout his car presented itself to him and Magnus let out of a heavy sigh. He finally stepped outside, tensing at the icy wind that cut straight through his chest. Though he knew they were pressed for time, he took a second to take in the night and familiar surroundings around him, inhaling sharply before slowly exhaling. He tried to accept the fact he probably wouldn’t ever be returning. He couldn’t believe he was even doing this. Truthfully, he didn’t even think he could keep _himself_ alive and he wasn’t the one with broken bones and infections. He ran a hand through his hair as he finally turned to Toki’s door. _God_ , he needed a smoke.

Magnus opened the door to find Toki looking up at him. It was the same way he had in the earlier days of his imprisonment; a mix of pleading, confusion, and terror. Magnus licked his lips, turning his head away in agitation at the thoughts that resurfaced, but he knew now was not the time to even humor the matter further.

“Just… try to walk a little, alright?” He quickly slid his arm back under Toki’s and helped him out of the car, kicking the door shut. As they made their way up the two sets of stairs, Magnus was relieved to notice that Toki carried a considerable amount of his own weight with each step. Though his knees shook and he swallowed back the grunts of pain as he worked the muscles that had since atrophied, they made it to the landing without stopping. Magnus led him around the corner, his free hand digging up his keys and eyes darting straight for his apartment’s door –

– which was slightly open.

Magnus stopped dead in his tracks, pure fear washing away whatever hope he had left. They had taken too long at the gas station. What was he supposed to do now? Run back to the car and not even chance it? Would the Assassin truly have left the door open if he was waiting for him inside? No… The Assassin wouldn’t kill them so soon. This was a game to him. The open door was an invitation. Toki looked at him in concern as Magnus moved forward, pressing his hand against the door an inch at a time, peering into the darkness as well as he could. The crack was too narrow and he could only tilt his head so much in order for his right eye to see anything at all. There was no movement but he could hear the faint drone of something electric. Frustrated with being unable to see, he pushed the door open entirely, flipping the lights on as fast as possible.

Though empty, his living room was in shambles. The heavier furniture that hadn’t been upturned or broken had been pushed about as if they’d been in the way of a struggle. As they stepped inside, the source of the drone became clearer – Magnus’s stomach dropped as he recognized it as the tone of a phone off the hook. He had an old phone in the kitchen, though he couldn’t remember the last time he’d used it. Keeping the front door open for an easier escape, Magnus let go of Toki at the doorframe so he could lean back against it.

“Stay here. And don’t move.”

Toki let himself slide down the doorframe and to the floor, taking this chance to catch his breath and clutch at his aching side. Magnus moved cautiously past the small living room, keeping note of the darkness in his open bedroom, just past the kitchen. It looked like the struggle hadn’t reached that far. Pulling the knife from his belt, Magnus quickly turned into the kitchen. Resisting the instinct to recoil, he took in the scene before him and closed his eyes. He tried to stay calm but he felt a grimace work its way over his face.

“Fuck. _FUCK_.” He tore away from the kitchen, pacing in his panic, hand draped over his mouth as his mind raced. “Jesus _fucking_ Christ…” He turned back around, staring at the walls to the kitchen, trying to think logically. He heard Toki shift behind him and whipped back around to see him attempting to stand. “DON’T.” It was all he could manage in his exasperation, but Toki immediately froze, paralyzed in fear of Magnus’ sudden outburst. “Just close the- No. Don’t touch _anything_.” He quickly moved to close and lock the front door himself before rushing back to the kitchen. They didn’t need Toki’s fingerprints in this mess, too. “Just don’t touch anything,” he repeated, turning on the lights in the kitchen.

“What’s goings on…?”

Magnus could just barely hear Toki’s voice over the dial tone of the phone only a few feet in front of him. But the only way to reach it was to step over the corpse and its pool of blood on his kitchen floor. In the light, Magnus could recognize his bloodied face. It was a Revengencer he’d seen around a few times, but here he was in Magnus’ home with countless stab wounds in his abdomen and chest. One of Magnus’ kitchen knives remained embedded into his ribcage. He reached down, lightly touching the driest area of the man’s chest. There was still some warmth to it, but it was quickly fading. Magnus couldn’t help but examine the man’s face again. Even after such brutality, his expression in death was vacant and masklike, just as it had been in life. The wall-mounted phone dangled by its cord by the man’s hand, the tone now a damning roar to Magnus’ ears.

Magnus stepped forward, not bothering to avoid the blood. He looked closer, trying to see the whole picture. The front door left open and the phone off the hook had both been to lure him in, to make sure Magnus would _see_ how he was going to be played with. The Assassin killed one of his own followers, disposable as he was, in order to make the game harder. But why go to the lengths of this set-up? A struggle, a man stabbed – Magnus’ modus operandi – and all his fingerprints left about his own house… But what good would framing him for murder be when the Assassin wanted to kill Magnus himself? He would never have allowed the Revengencer the time to make a call… So what was the point of the phone in all of this? Growing agitated with the sound as he tried to think, Magnus picked up the receiver and slammed it back on the hook, but the second the tone stopped, realization dawned on him.

He swallowed hard as he picked the receiver back up and turned it over in horror. The phone had been curiously clean for the situation, save for the number pad where only two numbers had been dabbed with drying blood.

The numbers 9 and 1.

_“Now run.”_

The Assassin’s last words to Magnus echoed in his head. Of course. Of fucking course. Running from just the Assassin alone would be too easy. Chills danced down his spine as he slowly backed away from the body, from the kitchen, and looked back at Toki with wide eyes. “We need to go. We _really_ need to go.” Magnus rushed to the front door, unlocking it and running to the railing in order to scan the nearby streets and parking lot, listening for the sound of sirens or flashing lights. Seeing nothing, he dashed back into his apartment to find Toki attempting to stand once again, panting heavily and face plastered in terror. As soon as Magnus returned, he noticed the smallest bit of relief dent the panic in his expression. “Calm down, I didn’t forget you.” Magnus dropped to his knees, gripping Toki by the shoulders and staring him dead in the eyes. “But I need you- I need you to do something for me.”

“Please tells me what’s goings on,” Toki breathed, a hand gripping at his chest. Magnus had seen this before. Toki had often fallen victim to panic attacks. Only Abigail had been able to calm him from them. But he would waste no words.

“There’s a dead body in there, and the fucking cops are coming. So I need you to stand outside and keep a lookout or something, anything, just listen for sirens. We need to take as much shit as I can from here or we won’t last a goddamn day out there, alright? Especially you.” Without waiting for Toki’s response, he forced him to his feet again and led him out to the railing overlooking the parking lot. “You can sit, I don’t care, just keep your eyes open and you yell as fucking loud as you can for me if you see anything. You got that?” Hand still twisted in the fabric over his chest, Toki nodded and Magnus ran back into his living room, past the kitchen and into his bedroom.

He tore open his closet, pulling down an envelope squeezed between two dusty boxes on the upper shelves. He opened it with shaking hands just to double check its contents – somewhere near a thousand dollars in cash he’d set aside in the case of an emergency. He knew cards could be traced and getting involved in the illegal – stabbing, kidnapping, torturing, the like – had concerned him enough at some point to prepare for a situation like now… but nothing could have readied him for something like this. Every second he fought against the urge to give up, to leave Toki, or to just kill himself while he still had the chance. He’d much rather die than go to prison, and much rather kill himself quickly than go slowly at the hands of the Assassin. But Magnus had already made his decision. He shut the envelope and held it in his teeth as he dug through the closet, searching for whatever bag of decent size he could find. He pulled up a backpack he’d been gifted during his time working at the camp, thrown aside as soon as he came home simply because it didn’t fit his _image_ to carry a backpack. But now, of course, he didn’t give a shit about images and vanity.

Backpack in tow, he dropped the envelope into it and rose to his feet, making a mental list of the most important things. The money had been secured, so priority shifted to… medicine for Toki. He held back a groan. What remained of his shots were stored in the refrigerator. He decided to get them on his way out and instead ran to his bathroom, ripping open the medicine cabinet and dumping its contents into the bag regardless of type. He listened for Toki over his pounding heart as he hurriedly ran back to his closet, filling the backpack with warmer clothes. Although less than enthused about the idea of Toki wearing his clothes, Magnus knew keeping in him in those tattered, stained shreds would only make them stand out and wasting money on new clothes would be pointless if everything in his closet would never be worn again otherwise. Scanning the room one last time, he grabbed the two boxes of cigarettes off his nightstand with a dark laugh to himself and finally returned to the kitchen. He stood to the right side of the body, leaning over it to pull the refrigerator door open. It only opened halfway before getting stuck against the corpse, forcing Magnus to pull harder until the body slid against the tile just enough for him to reach in and grab Toki’s insulin.

Letting the fridge close on its own, he stuffed the medicine in and zipped up the bag, moving back out to the living room. Surveying the trashed living room for anything else, he caught sight of the very last thing he wanted to see. His Les Paul had been resting between his desk and the wall, growing dusty with disuse, but when the desk had been violently rammed into it during the ‘struggle,’ the neck had snapped. For nearly a decade he’d kept it in near perfect condition, almost apologetically, after he’d thrown it to the ground in the fit of rage that had altered the course of his future forever. His stomach dropped at the reality check. There could be no room for denial or for hope. The life he once lived and the life he had desired were over and gone.

Magnus broke his gaze from the guitar and ran to the door, peering over the threshold to check on Toki. Toki’s back was turned to Magnus as he did as he was told, keeping a lookout. His legs were bent underneath him, bare, blackened feet resting to the side. Magnus suddenly remembered a pair of boots he’d been meaning to throw out had been sitting by the front door for months. Risking just a little more and emboldened by the lack of any sign of police, he slung the backpack over a shoulder and went back inside, pushing the broken furniture out of his way. A jacket he’d had hanging off his already messy desk for nearly a year had fallen to the floor and, picking it up, found the shoes underneath it. Magnus nearly threw the jacket off to the side before reconsidering. It was going to only get colder as the days dragged on. He didn’t waste time putting it on. He tucked the jacket under his arm, picked up the shoes and left his apartment without looking back.

“Toki.” Magnus couldn’t help but smirk as Toki nearly jumped out of his skin at his own name just after his panic attack managed to subside. “They’re probably big on you but put them on.” He dropped the boots in front of Toki. They were extremely worn through and falling apart but Toki should have been grateful either way. Toki began to do as Magnus said, jumping again as he was ordered to speed it up. Magnus watched the streets as he did so, then finally lifted Toki back up as soon as he was finished.

“You,” Magnus began, helping Toki back into the backseat and tossing the backpack and jacket into the passenger’s seat, “are taking a goddamn shower the moment we find somewhere to crash.” He quickly took his place behind the wheel and in a few short seconds finally left the apartment complex entirely. “And tomorrow,” he continued, “you and I are gonna set some ground rules if this shit is gonna work. Let’s just start with the first and most important one. I’m not your fucking friend, you got that?” Toki did not respond. “ _Answer me_ when I’m fucking talking to you.”

“Yes.” Again, Toki’s voice was too frail for Magnus’ tastes.

“Say it again, but I want to hear it from your mouth.”

“You ams not my friends.”

Magnus would have been satisfied if Toki’s English didn’t sound so stupid. They’d have to work on that tomorrow, too. Magnus was not going to spend the last few days of his life in irritation at such asinine sounding speech. He needed to figure out some way to deal with that, but now that they were finally on the road, they had nothing but time. It was relieving just to be moving though he still had no idea where they would go. The glow of the LED clock caught his attention. It wasn’t even nine yet. He reached over for the backpack and threw it haphazardly into Toki’s lap without taking his eyes off the road.

“Your shots are in there.” He heard the bag slowly unzip and figured that would be the closest thing to a response he’d get. He was mistaken.

“…Thank you.”

It was Magnus’ turn to remain silent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to thank everyone for such nice comments! I would love to reply to you all individually but I prefer to keep the comments section neat. But maybe I'll do it in the future because I am just so grateful!  
> If you want to keep track of progress, ask questions, or even just drop in to say hi (since AO3 doesn't have a very good inbox system), you can leave me an ask on Tumblr at http://letsjustpretendthisneverhappened.tumblr.com/ask 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Things are just gonna keep getting worse and a lot more dramatic.  
> (PS. Shout out to Skaboy for going over this shit with me at 3am and always laughing with me about what a pissbaby Magnus is)


	5. Roadtrip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toki is sad and Magnus is a moron. More news at 9.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emetophobia warning. Also, I forgot to mention there's a few callbacks to the first chapter of Best Friends here. Sorry if you haven't read that one and were a little confused.

Toki missed Abigail. With nothing else to do, his tried not to sink back into his mind and thoughts after having spent the past two months drowning in them. He stretched his legs out and slowly laid down, watching Magnus for any sort of reaction in case he didn’t want Toki doing so. Compared to the hard filthy floors he and Abigail usually opted out of sleeping flat against, the soft, comparatively clean fabric of the seat felt almost like a dream. But, still, he missed Abigail dearly. He missed taking turns resting their heads on the other’s lap. He missed her lullabies and gentle fingers running so carefully over his sore and bloodied scalp that it sent pleasant chills through his body. Although he’d wept and wept, although he’d _seen it_ happen right before his eyes, he felt… detached. It just wasn’t possible that she was actually dead, that he’d never see or hear her again. It felt like he just had to close his eyes and fall asleep and he’d wake up next to her, his head on her shoulder, her head resting on his.

A faint whimper escaped his throat as the tears welled up again and immediately he clasped his mouth shut. Magnus shifted slightly, his head just barely turning. He didn’t look back, but Toki flipped over, back towards Magnus so he couldn’t see his face. He couldn’t let Magnus see him crying anymore. The man was volatile beyond words. The smallest thing could, and often did, set him off. Even though Toki had begged him to take him along, he was still absolutely terrified of Magnus, and he knew the coming days were going to be hell. But he felt it was easier to just continue on as he had been. He’d gotten used to the pain, the fear, the humiliation, the violation. Just this morning he and Abigail had been _off_ , severed from whatever emotions they had left. If Magnus hadn’t come in and ruined everything, they could have died without feeling a thing. They could have slowly wasted away until their minds were gone and they no longer had to fear death because they could no longer understand the concept. But Magnus just had to come in and inject the hope that it didn’t have to end like that.

But Toki never wanted that hope. He’d decided he would never face the band again long ago, no matter what happened. Abigail shared her frustration with the band, but she had been more rational. Toki wasn’t sure if it was just a sweet lie to calm him and keep his spirits up, but Abigail promised if they got out alive, she’d talk to the band herself. She promised she’d help Toki get the money that was his, and then they could find some quiet place to live together. She promised him they’d even get a kitten or two. Had it all just been to pacify him? He supposed he’d never know now.

He didn’t have the courage to face the band alone, so it was just easier to stay with what he’d grown familiar with… and nearly grown to need. He’d relied on Magnus for everything, from food and shots to the pain that reminded him he was still unfortunately alive. Toki found it almost relieving to know that none of that would change, even now.

Trapped in his head, Toki’s eyelids had grown heavy. Hot tears still dripped over the bridge of his nose, falling to wet the fabric below. Lifting a hand and trying to dry them away, he hoped Magnus wouldn’t get mad at him and throw him out for crying on his seats. Shutting his eyes, more comfortable and warm than he’d been in so long, he began to drift off. His worrisome thoughts began to fade until only one remained. Why had Magnus let him stay? To be a pet he could play with when things got boring, just as he had been? As Toki felt his consciousness slipping away, the memory of Magnus’ lips upon his own resurfaced. His mouth and nose filled with the taste and scent of tobacco. Jolting out of his drowsiness, Toki pushed himself up slightly and turned to look back at Magnus. His window was cracked open, sapping the heat from the car, and the glow of a cigarette butt cut through the darkness. Toki turned back around, trying to calm down and sleep it off, but that sickening feeling, that _disgust_ with himself began to creep its way through every inch of his mind. It reminded him of all the nights he’d tasted this smell on his tongue… and the even more wretched nights that he craved it. Those were the nights he’d tried to escape by imagining Skwisgaar, but he had long since found comfort in the idea of someone who had left him in the hands of monsters. He never wanted to see the band again, but seeing Skwisgaar after how he’d used his image in such a way… Even if they had come to rescue him, his shame would never allow him to face Skwisgaar again.

But he didn’t want to think about anything anymore. Shutting his eyes again, Toki took in a deep breath, disregarding the usual pain in his ribs and filling his burning lungs with the smoky air.

 

* * *

 

Toki awoke to unfamiliar voices. He blinked a few times, sure he was dreaming. It’d been so long since he heard anyone other than Abigail and Magnus. He sat up and looked out the window, almost blinded by the morning light. They were in some sort of drive-through, but just as he’d begun processing his surroundings, they were moving again. He was suddenly met with the rich smell of food, which caused him to both salivate and gag simultaneously.

“It’s all we’re gonna have for god knows how long, so you better get used to it now.” Magnus tossed the paper bag into the back.

Opening it, Toki found a single, thin burger, wrapped with greasy paper.

“It’s dollar menu shit, yeah, but it’s better than what you’ve been eating.”

Toki glanced up front and noticed two cups in the cup holder; one a medium sized coffee, the other a large Styrofoam cup for water. Magnus had probably gotten the water for him, but, as thirsty as he was, Toki didn’t want to ask for anything. He began unwrapping the burger, starving but without a trace of an appetite.

“Haves… you been drivings this whole times?” He took a bite and nearly choked but he missed food having flavor so much he ignored his gag reflex.

“Yup.”

Toki looked at the time and nearly did a double-take. It was half after ten in the morning. He’d been driving for more than thirteen hours straight. Too afraid to voice his concern, he continued eating without another word – or at least, he tried to. After only a few bites, he wrapped the remains up and dropped it back in the bag, rolling it shut and pushing it as far away as he could. The smell was nauseating enough, he didn’t want to even see it, let alone finish it. He wanted the windows down, to get some cool air on his face and get that smell out, but he still couldn’t work up the courage to ask. A few minutes later, however, a rising panic in his chest overrode his fear of speaking.

“Magnus, pull overs.”

“…What?”

“Please hurries-”

“Why the fuck-“

“I’m gonna throws up.”

Immediately swerving into the shoulder lane, Magnus let out a string of profanities and threats, but Toki wasn’t paying attention as he slid down to the right-hand door. As soon as the car was stopped, Toki opened it and pushed himself out, ignoring how the gravel dug into his knees as he crawled away from the car. His body did the rest on its own.

Toki waited several minutes after his stomach calmed, just to be sure. As he sat, the cold settled around him rapidly. Wherever they were now, it was far colder than it had been last night. Beginning to shiver now, he dragged himself back up into the car, grabbing the remains of the burger and throwing it outside – he couldn’t handle the smell anymore. As he returned to his seat, he noticed Magnus had folded his arms over the steering wheel, head pressed against them. For a moment, Toki thought he’d fallen asleep but he lifted his head slowly at Toki’s presence.

“You all done?” His voice was strained.

“I… thinks so.”

“You better be.”

“I’m sorries…”

“Just… drink this.” He reached over for the water and handed it back to Toki. “Forgot to give it to you earlier. I really don’t want another dead body on my hands.” Magnus pressed his forehead against the steering wheel with a sigh, closing his eyes. “I should have known this was going to happen,” he muttered. “You don’t just feed junk to someone after two months of-” He cut himself off, groaning and rubbing his temples. It didn’t look like the coffee was doing much for him.

“Do you thinks… we cans find somewheres to stay?” Looking outside, it seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t even know what state they were in anymore.

“No. We have to keep going.” He turned the engine back on and pulled a cigarette out of the box he’d thrown into the passenger’s seat. Toki wondered how long it’d take for him to go through that carton and the two in the backpack. There was the clink of a lighter and the smell of smoke pervaded the air once again.

“But to wheres?”

“Does it fucking matter?” Magnus kept his eyes forward as they began to move again. “The moment we stop, we’re dead. You don’t know how this guy works.”

Toki knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed by a long shot, but even he was aware they couldn’t just drive forever. Gas would drain whatever money Magnus had. And then what? Still, he wouldn’t try to remind Magnus of this. He probably just didn’t want to admit it, and pissing him off was the last thing Toki wanted to do. Besides, he wasn’t here to survive. If Magnus wanted to drive them into a corner, so be it. Fall asleep at the wheel and kill them both? Fine. Yes, Toki hated and feared Magnus more than anyone. He felt disgust and shame and everything in between when Magnus was simply around. His very autonomy was stripped away every time Magnus gave him orders. Whenever Magnus touched him, even to carry him, Toki’s hands would shake and the panic attacks immediately threatened to take over. He couldn’t even make eye contact unless Magnus demanded it because of the primal fear that caused his whole body to numb. But Toki was here because there was only one thing he feared more than Magnus: being alone and abandoned again.

 

* * *

 

Toki wanted to fall back asleep, but his head ached and his stomach still churned. Instead, he leant against the door and stared blankly out the window with half-lidded eyes, watching as cars, trees, and fields zipped by. It’d grown overcast at some point, adding to their less than pleasant atmosphere, but even rainclouds burned his eyes. Still, he’d never been so happy to see the sky so gloomy. He had been so certain he would never see the sky again. His mind started to drift towards Abigail again, but the thoughts were thankfully cut short as the car shifted lanes towards the exit. They were getting off the highway, but it hadn’t even been an hour since that last stop. He figured Magnus was just looking for a gas station, but as they pulled up to a shady motel, it was obvious Magnus had finally reached his endurance’s end.

After Magnus checked in and wordlessly helped Toki into the room, he dropped the backpack on the floor and headed to the bathroom. Toki, leaning on the cheap plywood desk, only had to look over the room once to see all there was to see. Chipped and yellowed plaster walls, a TV remnant from the nineties and the dresser underneath it, a desk without a chair, and a single bed which Magnus claimed immediately upon his return. Toki watched as he removed the holster, knife still sheathed, and placed it on the nightstand so that he could sleep a bit more freely. Back turned to Toki, he fell against the pillow and, with a heavy sigh, went still. It was almost surreal seeing Magnus sleep, but Toki pushed himself from the desk and made his way to the bathroom, interested more in the prospect of a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's a boring angsty chapter. Next chapter will more than make up for it... and boy is it going to be a fuckin' doozy.


	6. Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus has issues.

Magnus awoke with a massive headache. He opened his eyes and blinked in disappointment. He’d half hoped everything had just been some fucked up dream, half hoped Toki had just killed him in his sleep. He’d even _accidentally_ left his knife on the nightstand. Pushing himself up and glancing at the dusty digital clock, Magnus sat still for a moment as his head pounded. He’d only slept for three hours. Still, in that time, the cold humidity signature of motel rooms had left him a bit chilled and, looking down, he noticed he hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes before crashing.

He glanced around the room - the bathroom was silent and he didn’t see Toki anywhere - but as he rose to his feet, he found him in the corner, obscured slightly by the desk. Asleep with his back against both walls and knees to his chest perhaps out of habit, Toki’s hair was still damp from the shower. He looked considerably cleaner, but it was hard to tell because he had put his grimy clothes back on.

Magnus held back another sigh and turned his attention to the backpack, figuring now was as good a time as any to go over their pathetic amount of ‘supplies’. Toki awoke with a start as Magnus dumped its contents out on the desk, automatically reeling backwards into the corner at Magnus’ unexpected proximity. He looked beyond drained, more likely from sheer hunger at this point. And yet, even though they had lost Abigail, since Magnus had promised the prospect of freedom, Toki had become far livelier than the half sentient corpse he’d begun to pity. His ribs still ached from the kick Toki had delivered in his panic. What a little bit of hope could do for that kid…

Magnus grabbed a change of clothes, balled them up, and threw them at Toki’s side.

“Get changed.” He didn’t bother helping Toki to the bathroom, let alone to his feet. Though he had been avoiding looking up at Magnus at all, Toki slowly looked up through his lashes, perhaps expecting Magnus to help him up. Instead, through an apathetic and expectant gaze of his own, he simply watched as Toki came to the understanding that he wasn’t going to assist him this time. Magnus knew Toki could make it on his own since he had already done so to make it to the shower, and if he never walked on his own, he’d never build the muscle back up. Toki heaved himself up with the desk, hobbling from desk to dresser to sink for support. Magnus watched until the bathroom door shut behind him, trying to gauge how much Toki’s legs could support. He was going to have to find _something_ Toki could stomach or they’d never get him walking on his own… and with the way gas drained money, Magnus couldn’t help but feel they’d be doing a lot of walking in the near future.

Turning back to the supplies, he sorted things neatly, taking mental notes on how much they had. He opened the envelope of money first. After gas and the motel they barely had 850 dollars left, but something didn’t add up quite right. He jogged his memory, trying to account for the missing amount and swore under his breath as it all came back to him. On a particularly lazy night in the first month, he’d taken money for alcohol and hadn’t replaced it. The amount he’d taken that night meant one less stay in a motel. Sealing the envelope again and placing it off to the side, Magnus wondered if they’d even survive long enough for it to matter.

He picked up the small pile of clothes next, folding them to take up less space. With Toki changing into one outfit, they had two more for the colder days, the clothes on his back, and the jacket he’d left in the car. It was more than enough, he supposed, and as he shoved them into the bottom of the backpack, his elbow knocked over a bottle of painkillers he’d assumed had been heavier than it was. Opening it, he could count the pills remaining. He groaned and popped the cap back on, tossing it back into the backpack. Between the two of them, it probably wouldn’t last them more than a week. The brown bottle was next, obviously hydrogen peroxide. It was half empty but he hoped they wouldn’t have to use it at all. Magnus dropped it in the bag as well before picking up his small bottle of blood pressure medication. Without checking how much was left he threw it in, convinced that he would probably continue to be stubborn and not keep up with it.

He picked up the insulin case, unzipping it and examining the contents. As the one in charge of keeping the hostages alive but without a prescription, Magnus had been forced to get hold of insulin through less than legal means. They’d been reaching the end of month two, so he had recently acquired another vial – about a month’s worth – but that was all they had left. If they really did make it out of the month, where were they supposed to get more? And more importantly, how would they afford it? But he couldn’t worry about it now, he told himself, and zipped it back up, leaving it out for later and hoping the lack of refrigeration wouldn’t matter.

Finally, Magnus reached the last thing of importance he needed to take inventory on: cigarettes. He had one unopened carton, one half empty, and one in his car that probably had even less. They wouldn’t last him a week at the rate he was going. Magnus with withdrawals was something they both didn’t need to deal with in _any_ situation, on the run or not. Just the thought of running out made him crave a smoke but he forced himself to ignore it for now. He’d never considered quitting cold turkey, but it looked like it was something he’d have to soon face. His head throbbed and he scratched at his inner elbow. It wasn’t going to be fun losing the only thing filling the hole left by a previous addiction.

He gathered up the remaining few bottles and boxes, expired hangover ‘cures’ here, allergy medicine there, and threw it back in the bag, moving to sit at the foot of the bed as he thought. Were they far out enough to stay off the road for a while? The cost of gas would outweigh the cost of motels if they continued to drive at the same pace. He briefly considered the option of living out of the car, but until they ran entirely out of money, he decided, they should avoid being exposed, especially while sleeping. They needed to figure out a way to make money and a way to stay undetected and unseen. Especially by the police. But the Assassin… Could anyone ever _really_ escape from a master hitman, especially someone like him? He probably knew exactly where they were right now.

The bathroom door opened and Magnus turned back to see Toki step out and lean back against the sink counter. Magnus’ clothes hung on his boney body, the pants especially threatening to fall. Magnus momentarily humored the thought of giving Toki his belt, but he needed it to keep his knife both at the ready and hidden. He gave Toki another up-down, and bit the inside of his lip. Seeing Toki in his own clothes was… interesting, to say the least. But Magnus shook his head, displeased. A shower and a change of clothes still wasn’t enough.

"You can’t stay with me if you’re going to draw attention. No one’s going to give me a second thought, but your look is signature ‘Toki Wartooth from Dethklok.’ You may as well be shouting ‘I’m right here, please come kill me.’” They didn’t need the attention and inevitable problems it would bring. He watched Toki for any reaction, but he didn’t seem to understand the implication. He had to be blunt, then.

"Cut your hair-" Toki’s face fell immediately. "-and shave that shitty mustache off."

“I-I can’ts just cuts…” He trailed off as Magnus narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t seem to want to let this go. “I’ll shaves just, please don’ts makes me cuts my hair… I-I’ll buy a hats and-”

“With whose money?”

That shut Toki up.

Just as Magnus began to stride over to the knife on the nightstand, he felt a tug at his arm. A panicked Toki was begging him to reconsider, but his words fell on deaf ears as a vicious shudder surged its way through Magnus’ body at the touch. Toki was violently knocked to the floor as Magnus ripped away from him.

_“DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME.”_

Toki stared up in shock at the sudden outburst, that old, beautiful terror quickly taking over his expression. He sat frozen to the spot, earlier pleas lost in the echoing silence Magnus’ eruption had torn into the air. Magnus had been on absolute edge the moment he’d been ordered to kill Abigail. She had stopped him from losing it at the time. But she wasn’t here now. It was just him and Toki. The way he’d wanted it for a long time.

Realization dawned on him. They were alone and far from anything they were connected to, anything that had tied them down before. Here there was no one to stop him, no one he needed to please any more. He never needed to go back to that shithole camp, he never needed to suck up to others to hide the violence in his heart. With Toki, he didn’t have to pretend, he didn’t have to take orders. He was finally the one in control and by _god_ was he going to take it by the reins.

He shut out his conscience.

Magnus took a step forward and Toki shuffled back with a puppy-like whimper, those tired, beautiful blue eyes set wide. Magnus took threatening step after step, each moving further and further up the open space between Toki’s useless legs as he frantically dragged himself back and back, only stopping when his spine hit hard against the wall. The impact shook the yellowed paint chips from the ceiling.

Toki must have seen the wildness in his eyes because he quickly broke eye contact, hanging his head in submission. “I’ll cuts it, I’ll cuts it I swears, I’m sorries, I’m so sorries, please- I’ll cuts my hair just please don’ts- don’ts dos this again…!” Toki stuttered and gasped as he pleaded. Magnus raised a foot and, using the toe of his boot, lifted Toki’s head by the chin until he was looking back up. He then proceeded to press the sole firmly against Toki’s throat.

“When you beg, you look at me.” He tapped Toki’s chin upward as his head drooped in an attempt to avoid direct eye contact. “Try again.”

“Please don’ts-” He struggled to catch his breath long enough to speak. “I’ll cuts it, I’ll dos anythings just-” His voice was cut short as Magnus pressed harder into his throat with his heel.

“I warned you about staying with me. Begging won’t help you now, buddy.” He removed his foot and knelt down to Toki’s level, shaking his head. “Remember when I told you if you wanna stay with me, if we’re gonna make this _work_ , we need to lay down some rules? Well let’s lay down some fuckin’ rules.” Magnus stood, striding over to the desk. “First rule,” he said, picking up the half empty carton of cigarettes. “You don’t tell me what to do.” He slid a cigarette out and, pulling his lighter out of his pocket, leisurely made his way back to Toki. “Second, you always do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it.” He dropped to a knee between Toki’s legs, lighting the cigarette nonchalantly. “Let’s practice, huh? Stop breathing.” His free hand reached up to rest lightly on Toki’s throat as a reminder, but Magnus wanted him to stop on his own.

Toki was clearly confused at such an order, unsure of what to do and still trembling under Magnus’ calm gaze and touch, but within the second he reluctantly held his breath all the same, knowing he had no choice. His eyes locked onto Magnus’, just as he liked, waiting in agony for permission to breathe.

Magnus could feel Toki’s pulse hammering away under his fingers and palm. He found it more or less incredible that Toki could still be alive after all he’d been through. No, he never wanted this pulse to stop. Fingertips still pressed softly against Toki’s jugular, Magnus’ trailed his thumb along his jawline. Toki’s mouth opened and the tiniest gasp escaped, perhaps at the unexpected touch, perhaps from reaching his endurance’s end. Magnus shook his head and applied his full grip to Toki’s throat. “Don’t make me do everything, Toki. It’s about working together, you know…” His fingers squeezed just hard enough to cut off the air flow; he had no intention of severely hurting him at the moment. The muscle in Toki’s neck tensed under his hand as he tried to swallow but couldn’t. Putting the cigarette to his lips, Magnus inhaled slowly as he watched Toki’s struggle to stay focused on him. Through a thin smile, he blew smoke into those eyes he’d grown so fond of. Toki strove to stay calm and still as ten, twenty, thirty seconds ticked slowly by, but instinct suddenly hit hard and the panic he’d been holding back shot through him. Watering eyes pleading in place of his incapacitated voice, Toki’s body went rigid and suddenly, Magnus felt a hand wrap over his, another clamping down at his wrist. And once again, it sent a shudder down Magnus’ spine.

 _"I said don't fucking touch me!"_ Magnus snarled, dropping the cigarette to the floor and using both hands to no longer just squeeze but _push_ forward against Toki’s neck, trapping it between the wall and Magnus’ palm with crushing force. Toki had released Magnus faster than he’d touched him, but it was too late to matter. "Third rule! _Y _ou__ don’t ever touch _me!_ "

It only took him a few seconds to calm down again once Toki let go, but Magnus alone was in control now, and he was fully intent on searing this fact into Toki’s mind. He reached to the side to retrieve the fallen cigarette with his free hand, the other still grasped tightly around Toki’s neck. He flicked it clean of ash and presented it before his victim.

“Now, what was that second rule again?” He took a long, taunting drag of the cigarette and leant forward before pressing his mouth against Toki’s, releasing his throat and uttering “ _breathe”_ against Toki’s parted lips. Toki immediately gasped, inhaling Magnus’ smoke sharply. He choked and coughed but, still starved for oxygen, drank down everything he could get. He tried to turn his head away, but Magnus held him firmly by the jaw, kissing into his panicked gasps through a depraved smile. Toki’s mouth tasted terrible but Magnus couldn’t have cared less. He pulled back, keeping hold of Toki’s face, but was no longer met with resistance. Toki seemed to be restraining himself as his gasps slowed into pants, eyes still locked on to Magnus’ in silent obedience. His expression, too, seemed more relieved than afraid now that he’d been allowed to breathe. Taking it as a challenged, this lack of fear spurred Magnus’ on even further.

“Hold this, will you.” Magnus lifted Toki’s shaking hand, wrapping his fingers around the cigarette. Magnus figured he could make more use of it before it burned out. “Now, my sanity is what’s going to keep us alive as long as possible out here, right?” He grabbed Toki’s free arm, pulling it out and roughly rolling up his shirt sleeve. “So,” he held Toki’s arm taut, gripping tightly at his wrist, “you need to stop talking like a fucking moron. If you’re going to stay with me, you’re going to speak like a normal fucking person.” Magnus pressed his thumb down on the bruised vein at the inside of Toki’s elbow, running it down the needle tracks along his inner arm. “So each time you fuck up… Let’s say…” He lightly flicked the ash from the cigarette in Toki’s fingers, revealing the red, smoldering butt. Toki’s eyes shot down for a split second and he swallowed, certain of what was coming, but instead of taking it from him, Magnus covered Toki’s hand with his own, lifting it up and leading the cigarette to his exposed arm. “ _You_ are going to put one of these out on your skin. But I’ll help you, just this once.” With that, fire met flesh and Toki choked back a scream. “It’s not as hard as you think. Maybe pay attention to the way people actually fucking talk sometime.” He pulled Toki’s hand back, letting go and reclaiming the snuffed out stub. “Here’s a hint. Nine times out of ten, the word doesn’t end with S. Besides…” He lifted Toki’s face gently by the chin – Toki had looked down, grimacing and clutching the burn. “You sound just like Skwisgaar. You don’t want to be reminded of him do you?” Magnus raised his eyebrows, expecting an answer.

“N-no.” Toki’s voice was hoarse and dry.

“And what made you want long hair?” There was a telling silence and Magnus smirked. He rose to his feet with a shrug. “Which brings us back to square one.” He made his way to the nightstand, retrieving his knife and brandishing it in the dim, yellow light. He reveled in the way Toki instantly tensed at the sight of the blade that had once pierced straight through his stomach.

Magnus sat back down next to him, ordering him to turn around and sit up straight. Toki did so with neither objection nor hesitation. Magnus smiled as he pulled Toki’s hair back softly and carefully, using his nails and fingertips to straighten it out as gently as possible and then splitting it into sections for easier cutting. It was tempting to run his fingers deep into Toki’s hair and dig them against his scalp, pull him back, maybe even kiss him again with his head jerked back by the long locks he was about to shear off… but the temptation, the fire was fading. He’d gotten his satisfaction and made his point, albeit excessively. Excessively. Had that all been necessary? Magnus tightened his jaw. He thought he’d finally detached himself from the guilt. Of course it had been necessary.

“See, I can be nice. You just have to listen to me. I’ve already sacrificed a lot for you, you know.”

“…Thank you.”

Magnus paused, knife pressed against hair held taut. And without further hesitation, he severed the first section.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry.


	7. Worth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toki decides to let go.

Before Toki began his shower, he peered over at Magnus, making sure he was still asleep. The mirror and sink were outside the bathroom, and Toki wanted to see himself in the mirror for the first time in months. Leaning on the sink, he stared back at the reflection of a stranger. A husk of a man stood before him, a man who had gone through hell and returned only in body. It seemed as if there was an emptiness in his sunken in eyes.

He peeled off his shirt one arm at a time in order to hold himself up. When he saw what had been hiding underneath it all this time, he dropped the shirt in shock. The image felt like a punch in the gut. His body was battered, sickeningly thin and he felt and looked so strangely small. He’d always been quite proud of his fit body and the way he took care of it, so seeing himself like this was…upsetting, to say the least.

Emaciation aside, the knife wound drew his attention almost immediately. He ran his fingers over it gingerly, glad to find it was no longer as tender as it had been. But seeing it in a different perspective, on a body that wasn’t _his_ was oddly surreal. The entry wound on his back was just as large and unsightly, but they had at least healed shut. The unremoved ‘sutures’ had already begun to be absorbed by the skin growing over it.

His fingers moved up his side. Yellow and brown bruises that had only in the past few weeks been allowed to heal stretched over his ribs, at least one of which, he felt, was still fractured. And above all wounds and discolorations, he was filthy. He felt filthy, too, inside and out. Unable to continue examining what he’d become, Toki tore himself from his reflection and sat on the closed toilet, shutting and locking the bathroom door. He hung back a moment to catch his breath before turning on the water and finally stripping himself free from the disgusting funeral rags he’d been trapped in. As he stepped into the shower, he hoped the sound wouldn’t wake up the sleeping monster in the other room.

The sensation of hot water running over his body felt almost foreign. Still unable to stand, he sat and let the water pour over his back and down his head. Dirt and mud flushed down the drain as the water pressure beat away the sediment caked into his hair and skin. The heat penetrating his muscles and bones, the steam rehydrating the dryness in his nose, throat, and lungs… nothing could have felt better. The closest he and Abigail had to a shower had been them washing off what they could with the dirty water that pooled from the leaking walls and roof during the rare rainstorm. It had always been a double-edged sword, however. The smell of mildew wafting from all corners of the room had often followed. And although their motel room smelled concerning - and to anyone else the motel over all was in considerably unpleasant condition – to Toki it felt better than any five star resort he’d ever been to. Turning the heat up slowly until it almost seared his skin off, Toki couldn’t help but smile as the water burned off the shame and filth and all the hatred he felt for himself.

Soon his eyelids grew heavy in his comfort, and for the shortest of moments, he was allowed to forget all his worries and shut off in a completely different way than he had been. Instead of tuning out of everything around him, he felt hyperaware of the water pounding against his spine, the metallic clang as droplets hit the tub, the heat itself even giving him goosebumps. When he emptied the entire bottle of shampoo into his hair, scrubbing furiously despite the tenderness of his scalp, the cheap floral scent was almost intoxicating, just as the food had been earlier. He’d been deprived of so many senses besides the pain of touch and the smell of putridity while he had been down there. Even the sunlight earlier had nearly blinded him after being in the dark for so long, and only now did he realize how _happy_ the light had made him. Toki laughed to himself, turning around and looking up into the stream of water and letting it run down his grinning face. Not only was he free from that hellhole, but he could feel things again. He’d been given the chance to see the starry night sky and the morning sun again, to smell things that didn’t make his stomach lurch, to taste things he’d once loved - even if his body did reject it now, he was sure he’d get back to normal soon. And why wouldn’t he? He was outside. And he wasn’t alone. Magnus had been uncharacteristically kind. He could have just left Toki on the ground and saved himself, but instead he’d picked Toki back up and escaped with him despite him being nothing more than a burden. He never imagined Magnus would actually agree to take him along, let alone feed him and put up with carrying him from place to place. And above all, he hadn’t been hurting him as he usually had. Maybe, Toki thought, it would gradually stop altogether if he could just stay on Magnus’ good side.

But his naivety often got the better of him. He didn’t realize how quickly he’d learn not to trust hope.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve already sacrificed a lot for you, you know.”

He could have just left Toki. He could have just killed Abigail himself and avoided himself all this trouble. He could have made him call the band at the gas station. He was burning through his resources at twice the speed. He was risking a lot for Toki with no reason to do so.

“…Thank you.” Thanking the man who put him in this situation to begin with was pathetic. He should have spit in his face instead. And yet Toki couldn’t help but feel grateful that Magnus had been as allowing as he had been. He’d been calm, after all, until Toki had provoked him.

As Magnus ran his fingers through his hair, Toki held his tears back as he felt the first cut. It had never even occurred to him that he’d be recognized. He couldn’t even recognize _himself_. And fuck if he felt like “Toki Wartooth from Dethklok” anymore. But he’d foolishly begged for an alternative to cutting his hair, just to hang on to that last reminder of how things used to be.

This hair was from all the years he’d spent in the band, the years he spent in happiness and the years he’d been living his dream. And the moment he severed himself from those times would be the moment they would become just that. A dream entirely. His long hair was from an era of unbridled joy and love, where he had a family and felt like he’d finally found a real home, a place where he belonged. He’d even, for a time, thought that he’d found someone to love, as complicated as those feelings were. But once he cut this last connection to the past, all of that would be nothing more than a dream, fleeting as the time spent asleep.

And then he’d wake up, and as Magnus had said, back at square one. Just as he was when he was homeless on the streets he was alone, starving, hopeless. With short hair and a bare face he’d look just like he had then. Going back to that part of his life was so terrifying to him he’d risk pissing Magnus off in an attempt to prevent it.

“What’s the big deal anyway?” Magnus finally asked, but Toki didn’t know what to say and feared speaking incorrectly. “Would you rather do it yourself? Here.” He turned Toki by the shoulder, flipped the knife around and held it by the blade before offering it out, a starving provocation in his eyes. As Toki stared back, it seemed as if Magnus was daring, _asking_ Toki to take the knife and do something more than cut his hair. “Go on. You can end it yourself, if you want.”

Toki slowly took the knife by the handle, eyes never breaking from Magnus’ as he slowly realized what Magnus was suggesting. The knife was a bit heavier than he expected, and he finally looked down as it nearly fell from his trembling fingers. It was of simple design but very well taken care of. Still, as nice as it looked, he felt sick just at the sight of it. The blade was sharp and the metallic shine forced up the vivid memories of Abigail’s slow beheading. How the knife had once cut straight through him was overshadowed by the nauseating scene that kept replaying in his mind. There was no way he could cut his own hair, let alone take up Magnus’ request, even if he wanted to. He shook his head and quickly pushed the blade back towards Magnus, relieved when he took it, and resumed facing the wall. He busied his shaking hands by covering the burn, though the pain from it had faded and paled in comparison to his aching throat.

“Maybe third time’s the charm then...” Magnus muttered in disappointment.

Toki didn’t understand what he meant but wasn’t about to ask as fingers that had terrified him gently pulled back stray locks framing his face until it was all collected behind him once again. There was no pressure on his scalp, nothing digging or pulling against his roots. He prayed Magnus hadn’t noticed when a shiver ran up his spine at the touch. It was unreal, not being met with pain at Magnus’ hand. The only time when he hadn’t touched Toki with harmful intent was when he’d helped him walk. It was only a matter of time however, Toki assured himself, before he freaked out again. But then Magnus spoke again.

"You don’t deserve this. I don’t know why you want to stay so bad.”

Toki couldn’t comprehend what he was hearing. He didn’t react, thinking he’d just imagined the first half. Magnus continued in his stunned silence.

“Don’t exactly blame you, though. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with those assholes again,” he spoke casually as his hands and knife worked away at Toki’s hair. “You know, I can’t say I’m shocked, but I really thought they’d come for you. Some friends they are, huh.”

Magnus was speaking more in the past twenty minutes than he had in the fourteen hours they spent in the car, and hearing him talk so nonchalantly after everything he’d just done was extremely disconcerting. It was a part of Magnus that Toki hated the most. Impulsive and unpredictable, unstable in all regards, always tricking him into believing he wasn’t as bad as he’d thought… Though Toki knew the latter was due mostly in part to his own easily trusting nature. For weeks he’d convinced himself that Magnus wasn’t at fault, that he was still his friend and that someone was forcing Magnus to do this, he’d saved his life once so he would never do this, something, _anything_ but the truth. And it was always when Magnus would _talk_ to him, just like all those times they hung out, that his chest would tighten with this revived hope that the Magnus he knew had come back. Luring Toki into a false sense of security before pulling the rug from under his feet just seemed like something Magnus enjoyed doing, probably, Toki admitted to himself, because he fell for it every goddamn time. Even now it was tempting to get to know him a little better, to ask how exactly Magnus knew the band and what he meant by ‘stuck with again.’ In all his small talk, Magnus had never explained anything, after all. Two months and Toki still didn’t know _why_.

He opened his mouth, building up his courage to see if he could get some answers, but then there was one last light tug, and he felt disconnected from Magnus’ touch entirely. His head felt lighter and his words were lost in his throat. It was done.

“But," Magnus grunted as he stood, “guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore. They don’t need you or me or anything else but their fame and money. We’re worthless now. And we’re both only here, doing _this_ , because we’re just a pair of goddamn cowards who are too afraid to die.”

It hurt to hear it, but Toki could find nothing to disagree with. He hung his head and the ends of his hair tickled his neck as they fell forward.

"Here. Do what you want with it." Magnus dropped the collected cutting into Toki’s lap rather haphazardly, moving back to the desk. Toki didn’t have enough time to process the hair in his hands before he heard Magnus dig through the backpack and then unlock the door behind him. He jolted around in a panic and felt his heart stop upon seeing Magnus at the door, about to leave. He tried to force himself to his feet, but could only stumble forward into the corner of the bed.

Magnus turned back at the commotion and cocked an eyebrow as Toki looked up at him in alarm.

“Relax. I’m not leaving you. You don’t have to have an anxiety attack every time I leave the goddamn room.”

Toki backed down, slumping to the floor with an arm propped up on the bed. He swallowed hard, trying to fight the anxiety back. He absolutely hated how he always involuntarily panicked when Magnus left him alone, but he couldn’t help it. The idea of sitting by himself in the room, waiting and waiting for Magnus to return only to find he’d been left behind without a word terrified him beyond words.

“Come on, now… Don’t give me that look.” Magnus moved back over to Toki, kneeling down again and taking Toki’s face into a hand. Toki shrank back slightly as the hand reached out for him but he froze again at the touch, prepared for the worst. Instead, Magnus brought his fingers to his neck, tracing pensively along what Toki was certain were bruises. “Christ, you’re like a puppy I keep kicking but still keeps coming back to me…” It came out in a mutter, dripping with disdain as he gazed down into Toki’s eyes with just as much condemnation. “Get walking again and we won’t have to worry about this little separation anxiety issue,” Magnus sighed, standing up again and returning to the door to finish unlocking it. “I’m getting food and something to get that stupid thing off your face. If I’m not back by midnight, I’m probably fucking dead so after that I don’t care what you do.”

Magnus slipped outside and shut the door behind him, leaving Toki sitting at the foot of the bed, clump of hair still gripped tightly in his hand. He stared down at the years of his life once more. A few months ago his hair would have auctioned off for thousands if not hundreds of thousands of dollars. Fans would have killed each other for the chance to own a part of him. Inhaling sharply, Toki pushed himself up and dragged himself to the mirror, staring back at himself once more. This Toki he could recognize. Staring back into exhausted, sad eyes it was as if he’d been taken back in time. On top of it all, his neck felt cold and exposed like a target standing out for Magnus to grab whenever he felt like it. He peered closer at his neck and pressed his lips together as he noticed the fingerprint bruises already reappearing over the ones that had just healed. If he did decide to go outside, the world would be able to see these bruises, this mark like ownership left by Magnus _for_ Magnus to enjoy in his own pleasure… Magnus could be as “nice” as he wanted, but Toki wouldn’t let himself fall for it any longer. Tears trailed down his cheeks but Toki forced a wide grin through it, smiling back at his blurring image. This is what he wanted, wasn’t it? Of course it was. If he wanted to go back to the band, he could have. Magnus didn’t want or need him, after all.

But, neither did the band.

Giving a laugh, Toki pushed back his self-pity and angrily threw that fucking hair into the trash. He looked down at the pathetic clump with detached contempt. There was no reason to feel anything else.

Just like him, it was worth nothing now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is Magnus such an asshole? Why is Toki so sad? Where am I going with this story? More mysterious questions with no answers tonight at nine.


	8. Motels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through the course of a week (or so) trying not to get tetanus from these shitty motels.

The rest of the night was quiet. Toki eventually retreated to the corner he had fallen asleep against earlier. There he felt comfortable with his back against the wall and mostly blocked from view by the desk and bed. Out of habit, his thoughts again drifted to Abigail and just as he began to wonder how differently things would have been if they’d escaped together instead, he shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. He didn’t want to think of ‘what ifs’ and he didn’t want to keep falling back on Abigail every time he felt sorry for himself. As he tried to empty his mind, he became more aware of the condition of his body. His chest and eyes burned and his throat had begun to swell slightly. As he focused on his own breathing instead, his head lolled to the side and against the bed. The comforter that hung over the sides of the mattress was unexpectedly soft and Toki felt himself nestling close to it. He wanted nothing more than to pull himself under the covers and curl up, to feel safe and secure for just one night, but as he ran his hand along the sheets he knew getting caught and pissing Magnus off further would never be worth it. Of course he’d never ask whether or not he was allowed on the bed, and ultimately Toki preferred to sleep on the floor than even humor the idea of sharing it.

Though it felt like it had taken hours, Magnus finally returned. After locking the door, he dropped a plastic bag on the bed and headed straight to the sink. He’d brought with him a handful of things Toki hadn’t even considered needing. Toki watched as Magnus placed a disposable razor, two cheap toothbrushes wrapped in plastic and a travel sized tube of toothpaste by the sink. Toki had known that many hotel front desks had certain items often forgotten during travel available, but he didn’t think a place like this would have had such courtesies.

“This is probably the nicest shithole we’re gonna have, so don’t get used to it.” Magnus moved from the sink and grabbed the plastic bag off the mattress. “See if this stays down,” he said, tossing it into Toki’s lap. “And sit near the bathroom when you eat.”

As Magnus circled around the bed to sit in his spot, Toki opened what he’d been given to find a single bagel and a small bottle of orange juice. He’d been starving all day, but had since lost his appetite entirely. His throat protested each time he swallowed. He didn’t want to imagine eating or drinking.

Toki nearly jumped out of his skin at sudden voices from across the room, but he quickly relaxed as he realized Magnus had turned the TV on. He sat quietly, unable to dredge up any interest in whatever it had to offer, but when Magnus stopped on the news channel, he couldn’t help but sit up straight in an attempt to see. His view of the TV was still partially obstructed by the bed. Holding the bag close to himself, he rose with the aid of the desk and headed towards the bathroom, trying to move quickly while in front of the screen and finally sliding down the bathroom doorframe. He uncapped the juice slowly, but his attention was on the news. He didn’t know why he expected headlines of a murder across the country here in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, but Toki sat on edge the entire time, half expecting to see Magnus’ face plastered across the screen. But then again, wouldn’t he already be wanted for kidnapping? Or had the band actually kept the whole ordeal under wraps? The channel changed and Toki let out the breath he’d been holding in as he looked back down at the bottle in his hands. He chanced taking a sip when Magnus spent one second too long on a certain channel.

_“-klok Minute-"_

Toki nearly choked on his drink. He jerked his head back up but Magnus had already changed it.

“Please-” Toki hesitated, recalling certain rules that had just been established and the punishments he’d received for speaking up…and the punishments he _would_ receive for speaking incorrectly.

“You don’t want to see that.”

“I…” Toki didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Fuck, he didn’t even know if he actually wanted to even see the band, let alone what they were doing without him. He was often left out of the Dethklok Minute anyway, so Toki Wartooth missing from a lot of episodes wasn’t unsurprising or new, but to see the band acting like nothing happened would hurt more than anything Magnus had done to him. He fell back against the doorframe again. Magnus was right. He didn’t want to see it at all.

“You either go back to them or you don’t. But you’re here with me of all fuckin’ people, so I’m pretty sure you’ve made your decision. Don’t worry about what they’re doing because they sure as hell ain’t worrying about you. Now, would you kindly eat so I can take a shower?”

Toki nodded slightly and gave the orange juice another shot, fighting through the strange anxiety of being watched as he ate. He proceeded with caution and tore the bread into small pieces, but after a few moments of feeling nothing but the pain in his injured throat and his hunger kick back in, he finally ate in confidence. When it became clear he wouldn’t have a repeat of the morning incident, Magnus strode past him into the bathroom.

“Take your shot and shave before I get out.” And the door shut.

Toki rose to do as he was told. He felt mildly content with orders such as these. They were easy, they gave him something to do, they kept his mind off things, and doing them meant keeping Magnus appeased. After he finished shaving, he gave his reflection another fake smile. He wasn’t going to cry anymore. He affirmed this over and over to the young Toki smiling back at him.

He brushed his teeth until his gums bled and his tongue burned, resisting the temptation to empty the entire tiny tube in one sitting, and then with nothing else to do, he turned off the TV and returned to his corner. It hadn’t bothered him back at home, but now the white noise seemed grating and multiple unfamiliar voices were stressful to hear. He eventually closed his eyes, resting his head against the bit of comforter hanging off the bed once more. The room felt empty again but the sound of running water and movement in the bathroom reassured him that he wasn’t alone. The blood leaking from the capillaries in his neck, flushing his swollen skin red reassured him of that. The burn on his arm, the pain in his lungs, the fracture in his ribs, the bruises on his chest, the skin growing over shoddily done stitches, every single part of him reminded him that he was not alone but he chose to focus only on the presence of another rather than himself.

Though Toki had been sleeping most of the day, he drifted off in time, only to be stirred awake by the sound of the TV again. The lights were off and as he peered over the top of the bed, he saw Magnus lying down, facing away from Toki’s direction. Even if he was out cold, Toki wouldn’t dare risk it, so the TV remained on the rest of the night, leaving Toki to stew in his own unrest until morning – the first miserable night of many to come.

 

* * *

 

In time, fear gave way to repetition. The mornings began early and Magnus’ demands even earlier. The first morning Toki was exhausted from staying up all night, but just as the TV had been turned off and he felt he could finally rest in silence, Magnus was hovering over him, barking orders to get up and eat. Toki blinked up at him in a haze. Something was different about Magnus that he couldn't place. Instead he listened to him explain something or the other about free food and getting Toki to walk again, but each time the idea of eating so early made Toki’s stomach knot. Still, every morning Magnus would bring whatever he could take from the complimentary breakfasts back to the room, leaving them with Toki while he stepped out for his morning smoke. Toki never saw Magnus himself eat, and for a while it almost seemed like the man ran purely off of tobacco and coffee.

It wasn't until later that day when he realized Magnus had trimmed his beard down to a modest inch and a half or so. When he had been caught staring, he was promptly told 'not to shit himself about it' and then given a rather brusk explanation that it being too long was obvious, or something or the other. Too focused on the unsettling image of Magnus with a cleanly shaven face, Toki hadn't been listening as well as he probably should have.

They drove from motel to motel, going nowhere in particular but always trying to stay on the move. Toki quickly came to find Magnus hadn’t been joking when he said the first motel would be the nicest. Each night their lodgings got exponentially more unpleasant and every day it was something new. From ancient rusted air conditioning units, dirty peeling laminate floors, bathrooms with soap scum dried in the shower and sink, to what Toki could only assume were shit stains and urine caked on and under the toilet seat. It was even worse than where he and the band had stayed during their early touring days, but he supposed even then they had more money than now, and when you sought after shifty motels that didn’t require ID, you didn’t have much room to argue. He suspected Magnus knew this too – he often loudly expressed his disgust but never made it into a big deal despite clearly itching for a fight with the skeevy managers.

At one particular motel, Toki felt glad he slept against the corner of the room. The floor was shockingly less filthy than the mattress which, upon smelling something foul permeating from it, had its sheets ripped off only to reveal enormous brown and yellow stains seeped deep into the fabric. Suffice it to say, Magnus slept on the floor that night too, albeit on the opposite side of the bed. When they found a place that was both decent in price and room quality, Magnus opted to stay for two nights instead of wasting money and gas looking for somewhere else, but the night was always spent in unease, and they often left as early as possible in the morning.

Toki never left the rooms for anything other than to get in the car, but Magnus never provided an explanation for his own all too often goings and comings. He would sometimes disappear for hours, leaving Toki with nothing but the TV – when they had one – to keep him from falling into a panic. After glancing at the clock every three minutes grew too stressful, Toki tried to focus his worry into something more productive. And really, the only thing he could do other than fret over when Magnus would return was to practice standing as much as he could. Eventually he found focusing on this task helped keep his mind off the more emotionally taxing thoughts while the small victories, such as standing straight for a few seconds longer than his last record, gave him much needed reasons to feel something other than loathing for himself.

The trauma from their escape began to fade for Toki as the repetition of their days dragged on in a strenuous misery. Burn after burn marked their way onto Toki’s arm as he tried to speak, to ask a simple question, sometimes out of desperation to fill the days-long silence between them, but he made foolish mistakes and Magnus held fast to his earlier promise. And as always, he seemed to enjoy it too. When Magnus began to talk more to Toki, it was always a shallow, meaningless, and often times awkward exchange which Toki began to suspect was only to lure him into speaking incorrectly again, like a sadistic game to fend off Magnus’ own boredom. But after the first few burns, Toki forced himself to pay attention to the words on the radio in the car, the TV that was always left on at night, and especially to Magnus. He learned not to fall for it when Magnus baited him with a question, a question Toki knew Magnus had no real interest in hearing the answer to, and when he absolutely had no other choice, he spoke slowly and cautiously. In time, he felt his mistakes slowed considerably and as the empty conversations slowed too, he knew Magnus was noticing the change. He felt a glimmer of pride in this small accomplishment but it didn’t end there.

As he grew more accustomed to their morning routine, Toki began welcoming the food he was given, keen on the idea of regaining strength in his legs. Magnus often got meals from outside for himself while Toki ate only what he could stomach. Complimentary breakfast bars were few and far between so whenever they were offered, Magnus would return with quite a bit in tow. In the beginning, it was day after day of bread and oatmeal and whatever else they could stash away for later, but by a week after they’d escaped, Toki felt like he could eat almost anything again.

From early on, he’d practiced standing and stretching whenever Magnus was out or in the shower, too embarrassed to be seen every time he stumbled or fell, but in a short time he was walking about the room in small bursts. No stranger to workout regimens either, Toki tried to apply his previous muscle building experience as well as he could, but the fracture in his rib and the stitches in his side prevented him from doing much beyond work with his legs. But when he found he could even run around their tiny room without feeling lightheaded or strained, confidence welled up in his chest and, overflowing with excitement, he waited for Magnus to return. Finally, he told himself, he wasn’t as much of a burden as he had been and surely now Magnus couldn’t object to Toki accompanying him whenever he went outside. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He didn’t have to face the anxiety of Magnus never coming back if he could go with him and he no longer had to worry about being left behind because of his inability to walk.

When the door opened, Toki was there immediately, holding back his eager smile with a bit of difficulty. But even after informing Magnus of what he was certain would’ve garnered even the subtlest form of praise, his enthusiasm was instantly drained as Magnus brushed straight past him, only uttering a bitter “took you long enough” before collapsing onto the bed, back turned to Toki as usual. He’d honestly expected a similar reaction but the disappointment stung all the same, especially after all the complaints and passive-aggressive stabs about it that had been directed at Toki throughout the week.

Unsatisfied with the reaction and unsure of what to do now that his main goal had been met, Toki stood before the bathroom mirror. He glanced back at Magnus, making sure he wasn’t watching before he lifted up his shirt to examine the knife’s exit wound. It had mostly healed while Toki had been sitting hunched over for two months and the skin had grown accordingly. Standing straight caused the embedded thread over his stomach to pull. At best it was uncomfortable, and at worst, sharp and unnecessarily painful. He had gotten used to it while sitting but he figured it’d take some time to readjust to standing. Toki turned around to inspect the wound on his back, noting that it too had healed over. The black, thick wire could be seen through the new skin in places where it ran shallow, the scar was unsightly and the flesh around the wound even more so, but Toki couldn’t bring himself to mind. At the end of the day, it was just another scar to the collection, and all those scars had hurt for a long time before he’d come to accept them. They were all from the same kind of person after all, even the new ones. He let his shirt fall back down, unaware of the observing eyes behind him. Besides, he rationalized, scars and shitty sutures were the least of his concerns now.

Or at least, they had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear we'll get to actual plot soon. I really do. Also haha check that out chapter 8 came out on 8/8 wowee


	9. Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Proofread while half asleep at 5am. will probably go over it and fix things later.

The following day, they’d only just arrived at their uninviting motel of the night before Magnus disappeared outside again. Though he’d come back sooner than usual, Toki only gave him a glance before returning his attention to the TV. But when Magnus dumped two white rolls of cloth on the bed before digging through the backpack, Toki immediately sensed something was different than usual. Not much had been able to break them from their routine. He narrowed his eyes as he tried to understand what he was looking at, but the answer only hit him when Magnus withdrew the bottle of hydrogen peroxide from the bag.

Perhaps things had been too boring for Magnus since Toki had begun correcting his speech.

“Take off your shirt and lie down on the edge of the bed.”

Dread washed over Toki. “…Do we reallie-” Nervous, it nearly slipped but he caught himself before he broke his no-burn record, “- _really_ need to take them out?”

“It’s just going to stay infected the longer it stays in. Do you really want filthy fishing wire stuck in your skin for the rest of your life?”

“…You used _fishing_ wire…?” He hadn’t meant to sound so incredulous, but the revelation had caught him off guard. His fingers immediately ran over the wire that had yet to be been covered by skin. Toki knew nothing about sutures or the types of thread that were used but even he knew fishing wire was a terrible idea.

“ _Yes_ ,” Magnus groaned. “I used fishing wire. It was all we had and I didn’t care enough to go out of my way and get something else.”

Toki clenched his teeth. Serious pain was coming whether he liked it or not, and as the seconds ticked by he grew more and more uncomfortable with the idea of dirty, possibly rusty, metal wire in his flesh. “How… are you going to get it out?”

Magnus reached behind himself, unsheathing the knife and holding it out. There wasn’t any maliciousness in his expression – it just seemed like business, almost like he was trying to do Toki a favor. But Toki cringed at the sight of it again, concern rising. Magnus really intended on literally cutting the wire out, which would surely involve cutting the wound open again. And one side wouldn’t be enough. He’d have to endure it twice, just as he had to endure Magnus stitching him closed for both sides before.

Toki cast his gaze down as he considered the benefits. He was sure Magnus was right, and the wire _was_ a pain in the ass whenever he moved sharply or stood too straight. But it had been days since he’d been forced to burn himself, days since he’d last had to deal with such pain. He’d just managed to start forgetting about the knife wound now that they had finally closed up and seemed to have comparatively lessened in infection.

“Look, I’m doing this for you. Yeah it’ll hurt, but it can’t be much worse than what you’ve already gone through.”

Toki had given up the luxury of winning arguments long ago and he wouldn’t forget the last time he tried to change Magnus’ mind, so without another word, Toki stood and lowered himself to his stomach at the edge of the bed, lifting up his shirt just over the topmost stitch.

As Magnus pulled the chair from the desk over to the bed, his words ran through Toki’s mind repeatedly. _I’m doing this for you_. Toki wanted to laugh at the thought. It had to be the second biggest lie Magnus had ever told him. He was probably just mad Toki had stopped falling prey to his little games, probably just coming up with some other excuse to hurt him, to take that fucking knife and take another stab at cutting him open again, slowly this time, more deliberate, more-

“I said take your shirt off.”

Toki withheld a defeated sigh as he sat up and complied, dropping the shirt he’d been given at the side of the chair before lying back down with his head turned away. He jumped at the unexpected touch gliding faintly, almost imperceptibly, along his shoulder blade.

“I didn’t give you these, did I?”

Toki raised an eyebrow at the question. It was hard to believe Magnus had never seen his back before. He’d always felt so thoroughly violated that it seemed as if Magnus had already seen every inch of his body. And he’d always assumed Magnus remembered every little detail of every little scar he’d given Toki. It almost offended him that Magnus would forget even the smallest detail of all the pain he’d put him through. If there wasn’t even that, what else had it all been for?

“No.”

But Magnus thankfully didn’t inquire further and instead slipped into the bathroom, returning with a towel and an unused washcloth. He folded the towel once and handed it to Toki, telling him to place it under his stomach. Toki closed his eyes as he laid back down, not wanting to think about dying the towel red in a few short moments, but suddenly something was pushed into his hands. He opened an eye to see the washcloth tucked under his palm.

“If you need to bite into something. Try not to make too much noise.” Magnus was sitting back down in the chair, wiping down the blade of the knife with their only other towel. He was the spitting image of an executioner burnishing a beloved blade, eager for the cut, but in his eyes remained the same indifference as usual. There was nothing else; no sadistic thirst, no shred of excitement in the slightest. Maybe he hadn’t been lying… The bottle of hydrogen peroxide was open and sitting at the foot of the chair, probably used to disinfect the knife. Magnus waved it around, letting it dry quickly before pulling the lighter out of his pocket. Toki instinctually flinched at the click of the metal but watched through a half opened eye as Magnus sterilized the tip of the knife with the flame. When the lighter cut out, Toki gripped the washcloth tightly. Ear pressed against the mattress, he could hear his heartbeat echoing rapidly away through its hollows.

And then Magnus drew closer and all Toki felt at first was a light pressure. A sharp prick and quick jerk at the stitches followed shortly after, but he felt very little. Toki lifted an eyelid, peering up nervously, but Magnus only shook his head. It’d only just begun.

“I didn’t know what I was doing when I did this shit. Still don’t.” There was another sharp pain that lingered this time but it was bearable yet. “This might feel weird.” The sensation of warm metal thread smoothly sliding out of his flesh made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Toki held back the shiver that threatened to shake him in fear that it would interfere with Magnus’ precision. Another quick pull and Toki heard the snap of the wire. So far it hadn’t been even a fraction as bad as he’d anticipated. He turned his head to look back up once again. Magnus held a short piece of the improvised stitching between his fingers before dropping it to the corner of the towel. It was still coated in all sorts of bodily residue and neither wanted to look at it for very long.

“There’s a lot more under the skin but it’s...stuck.” Magnus pulled lightly on the bit of wire still sticking out and Toki could feel the entire wound shift with each terrible tug. He swallowed and nodded faintly, turning his head away and pulling the washcloth up to his mouth, and if his nausea from the anxiety wasn’t enough he was immediately bombarded with the smell of mildew.

Magnus went back to work and the pain Toki had initially expected finally arrived as he dug the tip of the knife into the inflamed wound just enough to sever the bond between skin and wire. The metal felt white-hot against his back as Magnus cut away the new skin in areas where the wire stuck but ran shallow. Though the goal was to avoid reopening the wound and cut as minimally as possible, blood tickled down Toki’s side, pooling slightly under his stomach before being absorbed by the doubled-over towel. Toki laid still and quiet, only cringing under the assault on his flesh. At least when Magnus had stabbed him the knife had gone clean through, fast and simple. At the time, his own scream had startled him – he hadn’t even realized what had happened, had hardly even felt it, until he looked down. Even then, the shock had been so overwhelming he’d had no idea what he was looking at. But now he had to deal with jabbing, cutting, and pulling all against a raw wound that had already given him more than his fair share of agony.

There was another snapping sound and Toki felt the wire, wet with blood, slipping out with ease, but before he could feel any sort of reprieve Magnus roughly pressed down on the lesion, nearly sending Toki reeling.

 _“What the fucks was th-!”_ Toki cut himself off as soon as he could, but panic and regret washed over him like a cold sweat. Not only had he spoken incorrectly again after he’d done so well, he’d raised his voice to Magnus. Magnus, who had a knife in his hands and had finally been given the excuse to cut Toki open again. He tried to lift himself up in order to, as Magnus had previously requested, make eye contact while he begged. “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please-”

“Stop fucking moving! I cut the fucking wire too short- Just lie fucking down!” Keeping a hand on the wound, Magnus shoved Toki back down by the shoulder, holding him until Toki had grown reasonably still.

Toki tried to calm his breathing but the pressure on the wound remained. He could feel the pain even in the pit of his stomach and his skin tingled with nauseating, sweaty heat. He couldn’t bear it much longer.

“Please… Stop…” Toki wanted to look back to see, or even just ask what it was that was causing so much pain but it was all he could do to plead Magnus to stop. And finally, much to Toki’s relief, Magnus let out a heavy sigh before releasing the wound and the dreadful searing faded out just as quickly.

“You’re a goddamn idiot, you know that?”

Toki, of course, did not respond.

“I cut the wire too short, so I had to hurry and hold it in place before it got pulled under your fucking skin. The rest of the wire was stuck in there too, so if it went under, I’d have to cut _more_ just to get it out. And I didn’t think you’d want that. But then you had to go and freak out.”

“I-”

“Just as I got a hold of it,” Magnus continued in agitation, “you moved and it went under. So now I can either leave it, cut it out, or dig it out with my fucking fingers. Your choice.”

The idea of just leaving it was incredibly tempting but he’d come this far. What was one more cut to the hundreds he’d suffered already?

“…Cut it out. Please.”

“Alright, let’s just get this over with. We still have the other side.”

The incision was swift and hardly noticeable amidst everything else, just as he’d hoped. The adrenaline and endorphins had probably helped take the edge off. Finally, Magnus yanked the last length of the wire out despite its resistance, and Toki could feel the difference immediately. He hadn’t realized how it had been quite the literal thorn in his side until now. Once the small incisions had all healed over he could hopefully walk and stand straight without aggravation.

“Don’t move,” Magnus said, standing and heading to the sink. Toki gladly laid motionless, wet eyes closed. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined his first chance on the bed, but he’d gladly take it. Hard as the mattress was, it felt incredible nonetheless to lie across something a bit more forgiving than the floor. He heard water running behind him, Magnus scrubbing his hands, then the sound of water hitting plastic. Footsteps led around the room, the backpack unzipped and there was the rattle of a bottle of pills. Just as he opened his eyes out of finally piqued curiosity, Magnus was standing over him, plastic cup of water in one hand, two white pills in the other. “Sit up and take these.”

Toki grudgingly pushed himself up, ignoring the slight gush of fresh blood seeping from the cuts and taking the water and medicine from Magnus. He gave the pills a brief look-over before swallowing them with reckless abandon and before he knew it, he’d downed the entire cup as well.

“They’re just painkillers. Might help a little.” Magnus moved off to the sink again. He ran something under the water before returning to Toki, sitting back in the chair and gesturing to the side. “Turn.”

Something wet and cold but soothing met Toki’s skin just around the rawest areas. They were out of towels so Magnus had resorted to wetting a wad of toilet paper to clean off the blood and apply a bit of pressure to help the wound clot. Toki looked down at his shoulder as Magnus wiped away at it last. His bloody hands had no doubt tracked blood there when Magnus had grabbed him and pushed him down. Toki didn't look up until Magnus stood to retrieve the knife he’d left at the sink, tossing the bloody clump of toilet paper into the trash.

“On your back now. This one shouldn’t be as bad.”

Toki slowly lay back down against the now cold blood of the towel, trying his best not to stretch the skin of his back as he did so. Magnus pulled the chair forward and examined the next wire in silence, but Toki could only keep his eyes on the ceiling for so long before his gaze drifted back down to Magnus’s profile. He searched for any sort of emotion, something he could gauge Magnus’ current state of mind with, but he’d gone back to that empty expression and it didn’t help that the only eye Toki could see from this angle was the blind one. It was impossible to gauge how close Magnus was to the edge…but he’d been unusually tolerant so far, despite the circumstances. Toki wanted to take this chance to ask things both to keep his mind off the knife at his stomach and to get some long desired answers.

“When you did this… how did you know I wouldn’t die?”

Magnus kept his attention on the stitches, but finally spoke after a moment of awkward silence. “I didn’t. I actually thought you’d die from something like that. That piece of shit told me what to do and where to do it, to avoid vitals or something. But I think I just got lucky. _You_ got lucky.”

“You didn’t want me dead?”

“Still don’t.”

Toki’s jaw tightened as Magnus dug the knot of the wire out of his skin with the knife. Hopefully he wasn’t distracting him with this talk, but it was still strange hearing it aloud. That first night when Magnus had come to give them their choice only came back to Toki in hazy fragments. He vaguely remembered Magnus claiming he wanted to help, but the memory of losing Abigail dominated over everything else that had happened. He recalled pressing his forehead against the ground, Magnus conceding to his request, and the sheer terror at Magnus’ apartment. It was the last time Magnus had conveyed in any way that Toki was still supposed to be there with him.

“My _job_ was to keep you two alive. After he told me how to get that knife through you, the rest was up to me or it was my life on the line. You two were a real pain in the ass with all the medicines I had to spike your food with just to keep your infections down. They weren’t cheap.”

Toki’s stomach churned at the thought of the watery slop they’d been fed day after day, and the thought of unknowingly consuming it while it could have been spiked with anything… A sharp pinching interrupted his thoughts and caused Toki to squirm slightly, digging and twisting his fingers into the bed sheets.

“Stop moving. It’s hard enough on its own and I don’t have enough depth perception for this shit.”

“...What?”

Magnus turned his head enough to get a good look at Toki with his good eye, shooting him a rather patronizing look of disbelief.

“Depth per- you know what, never mind.” He shook his head and focused back on the matter at hand. “Just don’t move or this’ll be just as messy at the other one.”

Toki tried his best to obey, only moving a hand to cover his mouth as his eyes grew wet with involuntary tears. Gritting his teeth, he wiped them away in an attempt to stay looking composed. He wouldn’t forgive himself for freaking out earlier. As the first half of the wire slid out of his skin effortlessly, Toki remembered a question he’d been meaning to ask, but had never found the right moment, or bravery for that matter, to do so. But now they were talking calmly to each other and there was no better time.

“I can walk again…”

“I know.”

“I th-” His voice caught in his throat, mixing with the nausea he was still fighting back.

“Spit it out.”

“I thought… I could come with you whenever you go ou-”

“No.”

“But-”

“No. Stay fucking still for the last goddamn time.”

Toki hadn’t realized he’d begun sitting up in remonstration until Magnus forced him hard back down on the bed.

“Where do you even go?”

“None of your fucking business.”

There was nothing else to say, so the two fell silent having met their quota of exchanged words for the rest of the week. Finally, Toki felt the last half of the fishing wire slide slowly out stitch by stitch. With one last careful upward pull, the wire slid out in its entirety. Toki tried to sit up but was yet again ordered to lie back down as Magnus stood. He eyed the wire in Magnus’ fingers. The thin metal glinted wet and red in the dim motel lights, but it was nothing compared to the small mass of severed skin and metal bits collected on the corner of the bloodied towel. Reminiscent of a scene from a horror movie, Toki’s face twisted as he covered his eyes with his forearm, waiting for whatever was next.

“You’ll want to bite down on something for this part,” Magnus sighed, picking up the washcloth that had fallen to the floor in the earlier commotion.

Toki had forgotten about the smell it harbored until he gingerly placed the folded-over cloth between his teeth. Again, the taste of mildew instantly filled his throat and nose but just as he was about to spit it out, a sudden liquid fire in his stomach’s wound bolted his jaw shut, a muffled scream attempting to escape his throat. He looked down – Magnus had begun pouring the hydrogen peroxide into the cuts without warning. He fisted his hands, knuckles white, into the sheets again as he fought to stay quiet and still, but the searing hot bubbling sensation in his still bleeding gashes drew out shaky cries and grunts from deep within his rapidly rising and falling chest. Jaw clenched tightly on the washcloth and eyes flickering from his stomach to the ceiling and back, Toki pushed air through his nose as he swallowed back pathetic whimpering. When Magnus wiped away what felt and looked like hot, solidified, red foam, the burning gradually cooled and Toki took this chance to catch his breath, ripping the washcloth from his mouth and throwing it to the floor.

“Thanks…for the warnings…” In his exasperation he hadn’t caught the slip up, but even if he had, he couldn’t bring himself to care at this point. A little cheek and an extra -s on a word wouldn’t get him thrown out, and the cigarette burns had _nothing_ on what he’d just endured. As luck would have had it, Magnus wasn’t in the mood to react to it either.

“Just turn over.”

Though it still felt like boiling water being poured into an open wound, the second time around wasn’t quite as awful as he knew what to expect. The pain subsided, the sickening foam wiped away, and soon he was sitting upright as Magnus began applying the first layer of gauze around his stomach. Once it was set, Magnus shoved the remainder of the roll into Toki's chest as he strode off to the bathroom in order to begin the clean up process. Toki sat up straight as he wrapped up the rest, somewhat pleased with the newfound liberation in his back and stomach. Nothing tugged or ripped at his skin as he moved his torso, and although the burn of the makeshift surgery still lingered, the difference it had made was uncanny.

“You’ll probably have to sleep on your right side.” Magnus' back faced Toki as he scrubbed the blood from under his fingernails in the sink. “You don’t have to keep sleeping on the floor, you know. Just don’t touch me and it’s fine.”

It took Toki a moment to process what Magnus meant, but when it hit, it hit hard. All this time he would have been fine with sharing the bed? Toki’s shoulders and back ached from the floor and the wall, but how could he have been expected to not just request but to gather the _courage_ to request even a corner of the bed? Putting aside his own inability to leave the safety of his corner, let alone share the bed even if it had been offered, Toki fumed silently to himself. The asshole could have at least said something earlier.

Toki didn’t say another word the rest of the night as he sat in the corner he felt so comfortable with. It was what he’d known every night for the past nine weeks, he told himself, and it was safe and secure. It wasn’t cold. It wasn’t lonely with no lap to sleep against, no gentle hand through his hair, no ethereal voice singing him lullabies to get him through the dark and uncertain night. It wasn’t unsettling to sit on the filthy floors all evening and all night when (relatively) clean sheets were mere inches away. It wasn’t uncomfortable.

It wasn’t lonely.

It wasn’t cold.

But Magnus had been nice today. And he had been forgiving. And he said it would be fine.

The second Magnus locked the bathroom door for his shower, Toki found himself turning off the light and sliding under the still tucked in sheets on the unused left half of the bed. He turned away from Magnus’ side and pulled the covers up over his mouth. A shiver ran down his spine but he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold fabric running along his skin or the sheer joy of sleeping in a proper bed again. If he had to, he’d pretend to be asleep when Magnus got out in order to avoid any awkwardness that would certainly ensue, but he hoped by then he really would be as unconscious as possible. And when he closed his eyes, only minutes ticked by before he got his wish and the new warmth sucked him under.

 

* * *

 

There was a quiet hum from somewhere. He could hear voices from the hallway. Was someone getting into an argument outside his door again? It was probably because of Murderface. Again. It was always so annoying and stressful. But wait. The voices were in his room this time, not the hallway. Oh, it was just the TV. Yes, the TV was on again.

But Toki didn’t have a TV in his room.

His stomach screamed in fire and Toki’s eyes flew open. The sleeping face of the man who had haunted his nightmares was there to greet him and Toki’s heart stopped in terror. He tore the covers from himself with a terrified cry, scrambling backwards with so much fear-born adrenaline he could hardly see. He hit the floor hard only to continue his panicked crawl back into the wall, back into his corner where he pulled his knees back up to his chest, a hand clutching his bleeding stomach, the other grasped tightly over his quivering mouth. Hot tears wet his palm and the gasping sobs of hyperventilation overcame him in an instant. It felt like the knife was still stuck in his abdomen, pushing aside his intestines, cutting through what used to be muscle, the blade pressed so far through him the hilt of the knife pressed flat against his back.

He was scared – he was so scared.

He wanted Abigail. He needed her. He couldn’t get through this on his own.

He wanted to go home.

He wanted to hear them arguing, yelling, breaking lamps, swearing, laughing – he wanted to see Skwisgaar again. He wanted to go back to the way things were. But it wasn’t enough to just go home.

He wanted to be wanted.

But the only one who seemed to want him in the slightest was the monster whose calm, sleeping face had ripped him open and filled him with nothing but fear in a heartbeat.

No matter how calm or how kind Magnus could possibly be, his claws had dug deep into Toki’s heart. His was the face of sadistic deception and though Toki hated and feared him beyond any description, when Magnus stirred from his sleep to open his eye and glance briefly at the hysterical Toki - only to turn over and face the wall without a word, without the slightest change in expression, Toki felt nothing but devastation and buried his face in his trembling, numb hands as he wept in quiet gasps.

But, somehow, it had all just been the calm before the storm.


	10. Cabin Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> haha remember when Magnus felt guilty? yeah me neither.

The days dragged on. Magnus had been rationing his last few cigarettes as carefully as possible, but the long dreaded moment had finally arrived. As he had done with each cigarette prior, he smoked this last one down to the filter before letting it fall from his numb fingers over the balcony and into the dead bushes below. He gripped the cold, rusty railing as he slowly exhaled into the night air, watching wistfully as the last of the smoke escaped his lips and disappeared against the dark grey of the sky. But each breath after hung in the air like little clouds before disappearing. It almost felt mocking. The peeling rust and paint dug into his palms as he tightened his grip.

In all their days since fleeing there had been no sign of the Assassin whatsoever. Magnus wasn’t sure if there had been indications of his presence and he was just missing them or if they really had managed to somehow lose him. Maybe he was just watching, waiting for the best time to strike and somehow make their lives even more miserable.

Magnus turned his eyes from the bleak sky to the dreary ground. The trees and grass were either dead or dying. Winter was setting in faster here than back home. It would have been wiser to realize how north he had been driving them, but it was too late to leave now.

Leaning on the railing with his elbows now, he gritted his teeth and massaged his temples. The craving for another cigarette was quickly mounting again, probably just because he knew he couldn’t have one. These were no doubt the last of his days, so his health was no longer of any concern for him. He’d do a pack a fucking day if he could. But there was no rationalizing the purchase while he still had Toki’s health to maintain. A single carton was a day’s worth of meals after all and they were burning through money faster than he’d anticipated. They’d probably have to live out of the car soon, though the idea still didn’t sit well with him. They needed to find a way to get money and fast.

But short of robbing people, how could they get enough money to stay off the streets? A simple job would have been welcome at this point. It had been a week and a half since they’d fled, and a week and a half of being stuck behind the wheel or lying on some crusty mattress and flipping through the same few TV channels. There was nothing to do besides agonize relentlessly about the situation. At first he’d found it easiest to ignore Toki entirely throughout most of the day, taking to unconsciousness to help stave off worry and hunger, but as their resources dwindled, he’d grown too restless to sleep. Boredom had driven him to luring Toki into shallow conversations, but as Toki began to adapt and Magnus lost interest in such empty exchanges, he found himself craving something more.

He of course regretted talking so much while removing Toki’s stitches, but at the time it’d been so cathartic, almost _addicting_ just to speak, to tell _someone_ of even a fraction of what his intentions had been. Magnus gripped the inner elbow of his right arm, breath escaping from his lips in another white cloud. He’d never been very good at coping with addiction.

His guilt had come and gone in waves but every time it returned to him, it hit even harder than before. Toki slept most of the day but when his eyes were open they stared off at nothing. Magnus didn’t want to keep hurting him. His goal now was to make sure he didn’t keel over and die and yet-

And yet, he wanted to do it all again.

And it scared him. He wanted to do it all again. It wasn’t some desire buried deep down either. It was almost always on his mind. It was partially why he had never revoked the arm burning rule, as boring as it had quickly become.

But as constant as it was, he knew better than to act out on this addiction at his leisure. As he kept assuring himself, he didn’t really want to keep terrorizing Toki, but Magnus was starved for something, _anything_ other than this stilted silence between them.

In an attempt to change this, he’d even turned to passive-aggressive methods to finally elicit a response from Toki. Sometimes, he’d return to their room well after finishing his business outside just to milk Toki’s obvious relief at his return for all it was worth. People were rarely, if ever, happy to see him. He’d take what he could get.

But his thoughts drifted again. Before the funeral, while his façade was still up, Toki had never been _relieved_ to see him but genuinely delighted… But how had Magnus himself felt? He couldn’t remember anything beyond loathing and abhorrence.

He was craving something more.

Magnus sifted a hand through his hair. The night’s chill had seeped into his bones. He needed to get to sleep. He had a very rough morning ahead of him and cabin fever was already beginning to take its toll.

 

* * *

 

It began with simple agitation. He kept his mind busy with the room checkout process and trying to find the next place to stay, but as they sat quietly in the car his mind wandered directly to what he’d been avoiding all morning. Turning the radio on alleviated the heavy silence, but it quickly became only white noise against the way his head churned around the single desire that tormented him. As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, Magnus often found himself struggling to stay focused on the road despite the relatively short drive. Unable to keep sitting still, he stopped at a gas station to stretch out and buy a pack of gum to keep his mouth busy – he’d been chewing the inside of his lip raw. Checkout was a trial of its own as he waited in the agonizingly slow line. Though he’d thought ahead and brought only enough money for the gum, it was difficult keeping his eyes off the cartons behind the counter. As soon as the cashier slid the receipt over, Magnus was out the door.

Through the course of the day, he’d snapped at Toki more times than he could count for the littlest things, but somehow managed to keep himself in check for the most part until they arrived at the next motel. The prospect of sleeping through the urges had Magnus eager to get locked up again. The day had been arduous and had drained him considerably and though he had been more than ready to shut down until morning, only a few hours into the night Magnus jolted awake in a cold sweat. Sitting up and wiping his forehead, he tried to regulate his breathing but his jaw was clenched shut. Exhausted but heart racing, his eyes darted down to the floor where Toki slept, curled up in the corner just as always, his figure illuminated by the dancing flashes of the TV screen. Sometimes it felt strange to see him sleeping this way without someone sitting next to him. Every night, he’d been with her, always huddled together and nearly inseparable. But that hadn’t stopped Magnus from tearing Toki from her whenever he’d been bored.

Magnus sighed through his nose and stretched out. His body had finally relaxed and the craving had faded. Leaning back against the rusty metal headboard, he stared blankly at the TV, trying desperately to push his mind from Toki and onto the hackneyed plot of a show he couldn’t give two shits about. Unable to return to sleep, he laid there until morning, eyes glassed over, biting his nails down to the nail bed and scratching at his arm.

 

* * *

 

 

He began his second day of withdrawals in a miserable combination of exhaustion and anxiety. After an hour of pacing about the room before waking Toki, he realized he could neither focus nor stay awake through another drive. He extended their stay an extra night and slept, tossing and turning, through most of the day, leaving Toki to his own devices.

By the third morning Magnus felt absolutely dreadful. He’d hoped the agony would have begun letting up by now, but somehow everything felt worse than the previous two days combined. He knew they had to keep moving, but his body ached and his head pounded as if begging him to stay in bed despite his inability to sleep. Still, he dragged himself through the fatigue as best he could, hopeful that getting out into the cold would help snap him out of it.

They drove in a silence that had been continuing for days. Magnus wanted nothing more than to yell at Toki for something, but much to his displeasure, Toki been on perfect behavior and hadn’t so much as uttered a single word in what felt like ages. Through his disorientation, Magnus felt frustration clawing inside of him, but there was nothing to do besides bottle it up.

After driving through nowhere for barely an hour, Magnus nearly crumpled at the wheel. He could only continue on as far as the first motel sign they came across and was quick to make his decision for the night. But as they pulled into the parking lot and got a closer look at the area, he began to have second thoughts. Magnus parked the car, told Toki to stay, and headed to the lobby, groaning as he skirted around a dirty bra that had been abandoned in the middle of the path. They hadn’t yet been to a motel like…this. At the front desk, he was handed the keys - which he was hesitant to touch – and was informed of a special on adult DVDs for rent. Normally he would have sneered in response, but Magnus’ attention was elsewhere. The man reeked of smoke.

His knees felt weak as he swallowed back the rising plea for a light. He forced himself to leave without another word, finally returning to Toki and nervously leading him to their room. Unlocking the door and pushing it open, both froze in place. Magnus had done some shit in his time, but never had he imagined he’d be spending the night in a place like this. The air was warm, which would have been welcoming after the cold of outdoors if it wasn’t so stagnant and musty. All sorts of stains seemed to ooze out of fabrics and wood-paneled walls alike. Even the dim fluorescent lights were an unsettlingly shade of yellow. Behind him, Toki didn’t budge an inch as Magnus stepped inside. He couldn’t blame him. The idea of shining a black light in here made him shudder.

“…We can’t sleep in the car?”

Magnus took a moment to reply. It was tempting but…

“I…already paid…”

The musk of the room smelled faintly of cigarettes too and Magnus wanted nothing more than to turn around and just leave, but they had been approaching the end of the line for quite a while and this place was ridiculously inexpensive and the best option for anonymity. He stepped forward and dropped the bag on the desk before rubbing his temples and sitting on the utmost corner of the bed. Toki eventually followed suit, shutting and locking the door behind him.

With nothing else to do already, Magnus turned on the TV only to find there were no channels available. The TV itself had a VHS and DVD combination player at the bottom, but other than the generous options at the front desk, there was nothing to watch. He turned it off and threw the remote at the pillows, wishing he hadn’t even bothered touching it. Hunching forward and digging his elbows into his thighs, Magnus ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the floor, unsure of what to do besides attempt sleep again.

“I think…I’m gonna go take a shower…” Toki moved from the wall to the bathroom, approaching with caution. Turning the lights on and stepping inside, he didn’t say anything else before closing the door. Raising no objections, it must have been clean enough.

Magnus groaned. Knowing he had to sleep on it tonight anyway, he fell back on the bed and covered his eyes with his forearm. Three days in restlessness and only a handful of hours of sleep, he kept fidgeting, changing position, or tapping his foot every time he needed to stay still. By now he’d drawn blood more than a few times from chewing the inside of his lip and his knuckles were fast approaching the same fate. There wasn’t much left of his nails to bite without injuring himself there, too. He jumped to his feet and began pacing around the room in a vain effort to redirect his anxiety. As he did so, his eyes moved from object to object, trying to find something to do or examine. His gaze fell on the dresser and a sick curiosity pushed him to open the topmost drawer. Instead of a Bible, as many of their previous lodgings had had, Magnus was greeted by the image of a half naked woman staring back up at him with a lusty smile. He couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled the magazine out and gave the cover a second look. What was this crusty old magazine supposed to be, a jerk off on the house? He opened it up, flipping through pages of tits and ass and everything in between in an attempt to keep his mind busy, but as he expected, nothing held his attention for long. Instead, his thoughts drifted.

He was now hyperaware of the sound of running water, Toki shifting in the shower, how thin the walls between them were, the way water must have rolled over those old scars…

Shaking his head, he dropped the magazine back in, shut the drawer and began opening the rest haphazardly, desperate for something to get his mind off his racing heart and wandering mind, but all he found was sheets of dust, a rusty screw, and a rubber band. While the former were useless, he quickly snatched up the rubber band and tied back his hair to get the heat off his neck. He didn’t care if it’d be a nightmare getting it out later; for now it provided a significant amount of well needed relief. Exhaling, he paced over to the sink, leaning over it and splashing his face with cold water. As he looked up in the mirror, droplets dripping from his eyelashes, he tried to compose himself, but frustration and panic were welling up in his chest, the pit of his stomach, his fingertips, his head – he needed to get out of the room but out in the middle of nowhere along an empty highway, there was nothing to do or see besides wander around aimlessly…which would no doubt lead to begging any living soul he could find for a smoke.

He backed away from the sink and returned to the bed, hoping Toki would finish quickly. A cold shower would be more than welcome at this point. Falling back again, he stared up at the bright fluorescent light through his eyelids, but he could only focus on the sounds in the shower.

 

Eventually, the water stopped with a squeak of the faucet. Magnus snapped out of his trance at the new sound and sat up impatiently, but when Toki stepped out completely dressed, no different than usual, Magnus was hit with an unexpected wave of a disappointment. He eyed Toki’s back as he stood in front of the mirror, combing out damp hair with his fingers. He still wore the shirt Magnus had given him, kept reasonably clean by the occasional wash in the sink, but now it was obstructing what Magnus wanted to see. He trailed his eyes down Toki’s spine, trying to recall how his back full of scars had looked that night. They had been numerous and long, from something far different than anything Magnus had ever done to him. They’d looked old but he hadn’t been too sure. The kid had lived a life of luxury – what could he have possibly had to suffer through before Magnus?

His gaze worked its way down until it reached his pants, still barely staying up around his waist. His clothes were too baggy for Magnus to tell if Toki had gained any weight since he’d begun eating properly. His attention had been elsewhere when he’d removed the wire, but now his mind continued to wander. Were the old bruises still there? How were his broken ribs? Were the wounds still just as infected? Did it still bleed and did it have scar tissue? Did needle tracks still pepper his stomach and thighs?

Magnus narrowed his eyes as he realized the state of Toki’s health had lately been a complete mystery to him. He used to know everything, used to be the one who gave him his insulin every night, used to be the one who caused his every ailment and injury. But now Toki had resumed control over his body, taking care of the shots on his own and never complaining about any discomfort or illness aloud. He barely spoke as it was. And Magnus didn’t like not knowing.

Not knowing, not having control, not being acknowledged, not being feared, not having a goddamn cigarette –

“Show me your back.”

Toki jumped at the sudden voice, and Magnus had to fight off a smile at the pure satisfaction it granted him. He didn’t need to keep _imagining_ it. Nothing was stopping him from doing whatever he wanted. He stood and began his slow approach.

“I-It’s wrapped…”

“I’m not going to repeat myself.”

Toki’s lips parted in failed protest. Eyes falling to the floor, his hands hovered hesitantly over the first button of his shirt before finally working their way down. He turned, letting it fall from his shoulders to reveal his back. His abdomen was still wrapped with gauze, browned and yellowed in splotches. It seemed every time he had to reapply it, he would turn it slightly in order to utilize the areas that were still unused and comparatively clean. The old white scars and the faintest remnants of bruises peaked over the top of the wrapping, but the countless scars continued up relentlessly, stopping just short of his shoulders and neck. Toki let out a restrained gasp as Magnus brushed his fingertips against them again.

“How did you get these?”

Toki was perfectly motionless. He did not tremble or pull away for once. But still, he did not answer.

“Don’t ignore me.”

_Like you have been._

Still no reply.

“Turn around.” He didn’t wait for Toki to obey before grabbing him by the shoulder and roughly forcing him around. Toki stumbled over his own twisted feet and staggered backwards, hitting the counter and falling back hard enough that his head nearly struck the mirror behind him. He tried to move away from the sink in his disorientation, but Magnus was quick to close in, slamming his back into the wall and trapping him under his body. His hands trailed down Toki’s sides, resting at his waist as he looked down through starving eyes.

The newest bruises on Toki’s neck, now brown and fading, begged for attention. Magnus had never seen them so close, but now it was too late and they were ugly. He wanted to make them red again. His lips were against skin before he realized it, kissing the bruises shaped faintly like fingers and opening his mouth to drag his teeth along them. He trailed his lips up along Toki’s freshly shaven jawline, along the hollows of his cheeks, against the cheekbones he’d long admired. It was too much.

“God, I can’t fucking take this anymore,” he breathed, and covered Toki’s mouth with his own, kissing him hard and pushing into him even closer. Toki, who had been frustratingly motionless and unresponsive, tried to wrench himself back as Magnus pressed his thigh between Toki’s. Seeing him finally react to something, Magnus pulled back slightly and grinned. “Come on, where’s all that passion you showed me before?” Toki turned his head to the side, as far away as he could get from Magnus, eyes closed and face locked in a petrified cringe. But Magnus tilted his head to catch Toki’s mouth with his own again, bringing a hand up to the side of his head and pushing his face up in spite of his resistance. “Don’t you remember?” he muttered between breaths, hand making its way from Toki’s waist to the button of his pants. “What was that back then? Huh?” The button slipped through the hole and fingertips rested against the hot metal of the zipper.

“Please-” Toki finally gasped, trying to jerk away, but Magnus only pressed against him harder. “Please don’t-” His voice caught in his throat. “Please don’t do this…”

“That’s all you ever fucking say.” He tightened the grip on Toki’s jaw. “ _‘Please don’t!’_ Say something else!” Magnus pulled back with a snarl, his anger flaring up at Toki’s constant silence. “Pathetic piece of _shit_ ,” he nearly spat. “You were always so easy to walk all over. The band probably doesn’t even realize their doormat’s missing. Is it easier to just sit around and beg and cry while I fuck with you instead of doing something about it? You never thought about using this chance to get revenge on them? On _me?_ You know I’ve given you plenty of chances to fucking kill me, but I guess I need to spell it out for you.”

He grabbed Toki’s hands and forced them up to his own neck, holding them tightly against his throat.

“Choke me. Hurt me. Just like I hurt you – whatever you want. Even if it’s just a fraction of what I’ve done to you. You’ve wanted to for a long time, right? It’ll make you happier.”

Their gazes locked, Magnus felt as if he were being pulled into the blues of Toki’s eyes as he stared back in shock, and as he continued to do nothing but stare, Magnus felt his anger being sapped away into desperation.

“Come on.” His voice shook.

But Toki only shook his head in terror, struggling weakly to free his hands. Magnus squeezed them harder.

 _“Please.”_ Out through gritted teeth, the word bled desperation.

Toki swallowed hard and finally spoke.

“Has revenge ever made you happy?”

It was a strike of lightning.

Magnus’ face fell. His grip loosened. And Toki watched, awaiting the fallout of his question.

He wanted to laugh in Toki’s face. Of course it had. Of course it had. He repeated it like a mantra. Of course it _fucking_ had.

If it hadn’t, then what had it all been for?

Revenge had been his every minute of every day for nearly a decade. Revenge had been all that he’d lived for. The prospect of making someone else suffer, to watch them in pain both physical and mental, after they’d wronged _him_ was one of the only things he enjoyed.

Of course it hadn’t.

Revenge had never made him happy.

In those first weeks with Toki under his heel, had he actually been happy? Or had it been some kind of synthetic stand-in for a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, something he’d labeled as happiness because, what else could it be?

He didn’t know happiness anymore, but he knew he had been happy once. Immediately the picture he wished he’d burned long ago came to mind.

But no, when he’d tortured Toki, _that_ wasn’t happiness. Why else would he have felt so guilty, guilty enough to risk his life to put an end to it all?

Magnus felt himself breaking apart.

Years upon years he’d been festering in his own hatred, seeing only himself pitted against others. And when someone wronged him, he would follow them to the ends of the earth to exact his revenge. His life had been defined by getting even, but he’d always been so unyieldingly thirsty for others to suffer that he often went much further than necessary. But every single time, the satisfaction he’d so ravenously sought was quickly doused by the repercussions of his actions. Stabbing Nathan, destroying their equipment instead of just apologizing, wasting his life away in grudges and hatred - none of it was worth it. He’d completely lost the vision in his fucking eye, something that permanently affected the way he had to live his life. Every time he looked back at himself in the mirror, it was a constant reminder of every single one of his fuck ups and all the humiliation he’d caused himself. It could _never_ be worth it.

And Magnus himself was never meant to be worth anything. It was something he’d known for a while, but had never admitted. If he hadn’t been kicked out from flipping his shit, he still would have been kicked out eventually. He was the only one holding back the band. They would have realized it sooner or later. He was only needed so that he could be removed, so that Toki could take his place. Only then would the band rise to fame and power.

His thirst for vengeance was born from his struggle to be relevant, but it only became his undoing, more now than ever. Seething in his hatred and envy and pride had caused him to fall apart in ways he hadn’t even imagined.

He wasn’t a murderer. He wasn’t a fucking rapist. The full realization of what he’d been doing to Toki hit him all at once. Disgust and revulsion with himself rose up in his stomach as he shook his head in horror, recoiling from Toki who was still shirtless, his pants still unbuttoned and backed against the wall. He suddenly saw Abigail’s face, heard that gut-wrenching snap, watched all over again as her body fell from her suspended head with eyes that stared back at them in empty terror. Oh, how he had tried to repress the memories these past two weeks, only for them to now resurface tenfold in power. Surely by now her head had been delivered to Dethklok – no he’d never wanted this, oh _God_ he’d never wanted this, this wasn’t him, this wasn’t supposed to happen – he blinked and Toki still stood there, shivering and bruised and bloodied and half naked about to be _used –_ Magnus’ knees gave out as he hunched forward, clasping a hand over his mouth as he fought back the rising urge to vomit.

He could never have imagined the monster he’d become.

That night so many years ago had sealed his fate. Getting revenge had done nothing but rob him of his eye, his friends, his future, his _humanity_. It had never given him anything. It had only taken and _taken_ from him until there was nothing left, until it forced him to take from others.

If he hadn’t Toki would still know how to smile. Abigail would still be alive. He’d never meant for this. He’d never wanted anyone to die. He just wanted…

He just wanted…

“Back then,” Toki spoke, his words suddenly grounding Magnus’ swimming head like another flash of lightning. “You said… you ‘didn’t want this’… I still believe you. And you can’t be completelies heartless if you can cry, too.”

Toki had just pulled his shirt back on and finished buttoning it as Magnus looked back up at him. His vision blurred and he felt something slide down his cheek. Touching his face only to find it wet with fresh tears, he wiped them away hurriedly with his sleeve.

“...You’re so fucking naïve.” He didn’t know what else to say. How could Toki possibly believe anything he said after all this?

Toki nodded slowly as he slid down the wall to the floor, knees to his chest as usual, and closed his eyes. Neither of them wanted to look at the other, but he must have felt the need to fill the silence.

“Once I…almost beat some guy to death. And I liked it.”

That was…out of the blue.

“…Did he deserve it?” Probably not as much as Magnus did.

“He was a real dildos– _dildo_.”

“You don’t…have to keep forcing yourself. I don’t care anymore. Just…talk how you want.” Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Toki lightly grip his burned arm. He was probably wondering what it all had been for if Magnus didn’t care anymore, and if he asked, Magnus wouldn’t have been able to answer without feeling ashamed of the truth. He inhaled sharply, breaking the awkward silence one last time.

“Listen, I… I won’t ever touch you like that again.” He wouldn’t touch him at _all_ again unless absolutely necessary. “And I’m…sorry I couldn’t save her.”

Toki looked back at him in disbelief as if apologies were the last thing he’d expected. He seemed to struggle with what he wanted to say. “…Thank you for trying.”

“Don’t thank me anymore.”

And then they fell quiet, both sitting on the filthy floors of a room in a sex motel more than a thousand miles from the homes and lives they couldn’t return to.

Magnus’ hands shook.

He wanted a cigarette.


	11. Misgivings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idiots, the two of you.

Never could Toki have ever expected Magnus’ breakdown. It’d felt so _wrong_ to watch him fall apart on the floor, like it was something neither he nor anyone was ever meant to see. Toki hated it. And though he’d tried to lighten the mood by sharing the story of his own freak out, Toki wasn’t sure if he’d prefer smiles and laughter between them. Magnus smiling without a trace of malice was a long lost concept confined to their earlier days together, but even then, every emotion Magnus had shown in those days had been as fake as their friendship.

And still, seeing Magnus’ expression twist as tears welled up in his eyes, that look of pure agony tearing him apart as his mind undoubtedly raced at a mile a minute while he relived every repressed memory couldn’t have been better. Toki never wanted to see Magnus like that again. Magnus was supposed to be the strong one, the one who was composed and in control and vicious, not weak and afraid and crying and crumpling up in horror. If Magnus fell apart again, if he never came out of it, what would they do? If Magnus lost his drive to survive, what would Toki do?

He used to be content with following Magnus wherever he went, even if he led him straight into the sea. But as the days passed, he grew less thrilled with the idea of unnecessary suffering. Maybe they’d be killed tomorrow or maybe it’d be a few weeks – he certainly didn’t know but he didn’t want to say they hadn’t tried at the end of it all. Toki realized that if they were to keep moving, he had to be the hand to pull Magnus out of the water. With no one else there to help, they were each other’s grounding factor.

Three days had passed since that night and things still remained awkward. Whether it was in the car or a motel, Magnus was often quiet, seemingly lost in thought, but Toki could never find the courage to start a conversation on his own. His supposed change of heart felt too fragile, and Toki feared if he were to say just one thing wrong, Magnus would snap again and the cycle would resume. But when he quietly requested Toki sit up front to talk him through bouts of withdrawals, Toki willingly obliged though their new proximity was uncomfortable. Magnus still radiated intimidation and never once looked at Toki but insisted he talk, even after he’d run out of safe topics. He steered clear of matters related to Dethklok and often did his best to avoid asking questions, but after being on the road longer than usual and noticing they’d passed by a number of motels without even checking them out, Toki’s concern grew. And as they pushed on, figures of packed buildings and skyscrapers cut through the hazy horizon.

“Am- Are we going to a city?”

Magnus withheld a sigh. “Yeah.”

“Is it safe?” They’d steered clear of heavily populated areas until now. More than being recognized himself, Toki worried the police had spread their search for Magnus even this far by now.

“Nothing is safe. But the city is huge. We can probably blend into the crowds if necessary, but we shouldn’t have to. Either way, you’re not leaving the room while we’re there.”

“But why are we evens going?”

“Because,” Magnus was clearly beginning to grow agitated, “I need to get something.”

“What are we getting?” Toki pressed on despite knowing better.

“ _I’m_ getting,” he corrected. “And it doesn’t matter.”

Planting an elbow against the door’s armrest and resting his chin in his palm, Toki looked out the window with a hidden scowl. It was always the same shit and he was getting frustrated with being constantly left in the dark. Magnus still hadn’t graciously blessed him with a simple explanation of why they were even in this mess to begin with. And even more, he still wouldn’t let Toki join him whenever he left the room most evenings and nights. Toki’s could only guess Magnus needed his alone time…if it was as simple as that. He had always assumed going out for some air and time by himself would at the very least be relaxing, but Magnus always returned in a worse mood than when he left.

_Get walking again and we won’t have to worry about this little separation anxiety issue._

Toki had taken what Magnus said back then as a promise of sorts. Using it as a sort of goal, he’d always thought back to it while he practiced walking during the nights Magnus had gone out. Perhaps Toki had been wrong to take it as a promise, especially coming from Magnus, but it had given him something to look forward to and something to work for. So unsurprisingly, the night Magnus removed his stitches and subsequently shut him down before he could even finish his sentence, Toki felt like he’d been robbed of his only reward. The rejection from such an instant refusal still stung.

And the “separation anxiety,” as Magnus had so derisively put it, never really went away. Toki had just learned how to handle it more effectively. Every single time Magnus went out, he was plagued with pessimistic thoughts, telling himself _this is it, this is the night he doesn’t come back_ and then he would review the day and try to find fault with everything he’d done that Magnus could have reason to leave him over, and the days he hadn’t done much, his thoughts always shifted to the assassin, or the cops, or some kind of freak accident. Even while he watched TV or tried to sleep, the thoughts clawed away in the back of his mind. He knew tonight would be no different.

Passing the suburbs and the motels just off the highway, Magnus kept driving straight into the heart of downtown and soon Toki felt it too risky just to look out the window. He hadn’t seen such a sheer mass of people in so long. It felt strange and a little nerve-racking to have so many eyes darting around when he’d lived the past several weeks in isolation. Even being on stage had never made him feel this way, his first few times notwithstanding. Homeless people sat against walls, their signs propped up next to them, while people rushed past as if they were invisible. Buildings towered overhead, making even the busiest crowds seem insignificant. The city was much larger than he thought. Toki wondered if they had ever performed somewhere nearby. Leaning the side of his head against the window, he stared down at his feet. They probably had. Everything always came back to them.

“Downtowns is expensive, right?”

“I’m just looking around. We’re not staying this close.”

Toki just closed his eyes in response as he tried to dismiss the matter. Worrying wasn’t going to change anything, and nothing could change Magnus’ mind.

After his curiosity had been sated, they headed to the outskirts of the city and unsurprisingly, the motel they eventually checked into was still costly. The flashing LED sign outside advertised a price nearly double their usual, but Magus remained adamant. Toki had never had much more than a vague estimate of their total funds, but he knew by now they had to be on their last leg. Still, Magnus had to know what he was doing regardless of what he did and didn’t tell Toki, so Toki would not question him further. And as he’d been dreading, only minutes after arriving Magnus was already halfway out the door.

“I still can’t come.” It came out more like an observation than a question. Toki was sitting at the foot of the bed, gaze cast down as he brushed a thumb over his knuckles.

“Here, of all places? You don’t actually think that’d be a good idea, do you?”

“I knows…”

“Listen.” Magnus pulled back to face Toki. “After we get out of this city, I won’t leave anymore. And if I have to, well…” He paused before giving a light, defeated sigh. “We’ll see.”

Whatever relief that had brought Toki was quickly struck down as he stopped in the doorway once more.

“I may be later than usual tonight. Don’t worry unless I’m not back by morning.”

“…Okays…”

Magnus heaved another sigh. “You know I’m not gonna just ditch you, right? After all this?”

Toki raised his head and stared blankly up at him, incapable of any other reaction.

“If you have to worry, at least don’t worry about that.” He waited for a reply, but when Toki couldn’t find the words, he gave a faint nod before finally stepping outside and shutting the door.

Toki sat still for a few moments after he’d gone. The idea of believing and trusting Magnus was laughable, as tempting as it often had been. He could try to be as nice as he wanted, but Toki couldn’t trust him on this and he couldn’t trust him in keeping the promise he’d made. It was as simple as that. Instead of concerning himself with the matter further, he rose to his feet and retrieved the remote, turning on the first flatscreen TV they’d had in a long while and crawling onto the bed. As he did so, the red light of the alarm clock caught his eye. They hadn’t always had such a luxury at their previous lodgings. Still, he groaned and rolled over, wishing it wasn’t there. It wasn’t even five yet and “later than usual” could mean anywhere after two in the morning.

With nothing else to do, Toki allowed himself a side of the bed and buried himself under the warm blankets, watching TV until night began to fall. Feeling himself begin to drift off, he sat up and grabbed the backpack off the floor, fishing up his insulin and needle. Lightly swirling what little remained in the glass vial, Toki pressed his lips together. He’d been running out, and although he’d been using what he’d been given, a long lasting single dose insulin, for the past two and a half months, without a way to check his glucose levels he’d mostly been going at it blind. He did his best to adjust the dosage off experience and listening to the way his body felt, but he knew it was a dangerous game. He considered bringing it up with Magnus in a few days as he began the process for his shot.

After finishing his nightly routine, he slid back under the covers and curled up with a sheepish smile he couldn’t help. He felt a bit like a dog sitting on furniture he wasn’t allowed on, ready to jolt awake and hit the floor the instant Magnus opened the door. And though he hadn’t felt this comfortable since his last attempt at the bed, his sleep was shallow as he waited for the doorknob to turn like the dog he was.

In time he heard a creak, footsteps, then a faint buzz that slowly cleared into voices, but mind and body too heavy with sleep and warmth, Toki couldn’t even open his eyes.

_“…a low of…expect…next few…snow…”_

There was movement behind him and then the mattress shifted. He realized the voices were the TV again. Magnus had returned. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and finally he could sleep easy. Too tired, too wrought with worry, and so much more comfortable, he’d forgotten he needed to return to the floor and couldn’t even recognize the fact that Magnus was laying inches away from him again. Toki slept soundly and deeply, not waking unlike last time, until the morning when he woke up alone.

 

* * *

 

He would have thought he had imagined it all last night if the opposite side of the bed hadn’t been left such a mess. Under normal circumstances, he would have commended himself for getting through a night on the bed, but Magnus was nowhere to be found. Always the first to rise, Magnus got Toki up shortly after to get the day started, especially when the motel offered breakfast. Pacing now, Toki glanced at the clock again. He should have been up two hours ago. Maybe he had just gone out for a walk? He stepped back outside and stood at the railing, ignoring the chill that stripped the remnant warmth from his bones and scanning the area for any sign of him. He looked for the car down in the parking lot, but they’d parked just out of sight from their door. He waited for a few moments before the cold became unbearable and drove him back indoors.

Inside again, his eyes gravitated towards the backpack resting on the floor by the TV’s dresser. In his panic he had forgotten about it, but before he could feel relieved he reminded himself that all Magnus needed was the money inside. The backpack and the rest of its contents were essentially useless. Toki approached slowly, afraid of confirming his fears. He shouldn’t have let himself even _hope_ Magnus had changed. The timing was just right. He’d probably said all that yesterday so it would hurt more when he disappeared, to give him that doubt, to make him wait and wait until he was discovered and kicked out by the cleaning crew, leaving him to wander the streets alone in a city that would tear him apart – his hand hovered over the bag’s unzipped opening.

Why did he have to be so easy to walk all over as the perfect doormat, all because it was easier to sit around and beg and cry like a pathetic piece of –

“Toki?”

Toki’s blood ran cold. He turned around to see Magnus holding the door open with his hips, carrying something trapped between two paper plates in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“If you’re looking for the painkillers, they’re by the sink. We’re running out.” He let the door shut behind him and moved casually past Toki, placing the paper plates on the desk and pulling out the chair to sit. “I thought I’d let you sleep in today. We’re only staying here while we’re in this city. We can probably leave tomorrow if things go well.” He eyed Toki suspiciously as he sipped his coffee. As collected as he’d tried to appear, his face probably stricken white in his panic had betrayed him. “I was barely gone fifteen minutes, kid.”

Toki looked away, face now flushing in shame at the conclusions he’d jumped to.

“…Here, I brought food up.”

He heard Magnus push the plates forward before standing and passing between Toki and the bed to sit on his side. There was a click and the TV turned on, picking up on the news channel from last night.

“There’s a lot, so save some for later.”

Toki gathered his nerve and took a seat at the desk, swallowing back a pitiful ‘thank you’ as he opened the makeshift paper container.

But Magnus only stuck around for a few hours, constantly checking the clock, before preparing to head out again much to Toki’s dismay.

“I shouldn’t be out past midnight this time. But if I am… Well, you know.” He dug through the backpack as he spoke, but from his spot on the floor, Toki couldn’t see what he had taken. He then grabbed the single jacket they had in their possession and threw it on as he left.

It was just like always, Toki told himself. And though he worried like always, after the embarrassing fright of that morning, Toki trusted him to return just as he always had –

Until the clock struck midnight. And Toki couldn’t sleep.

And then it was one. Toki paced about the room. Any minute now.

Two. Toki stood outside for nearly an hour, waiting, shivering.

Three. He couldn’t hold the panic at bay much longer. Fear was taking over.

Four. Fingers quivering, he gathered his nerve and unzipped the backpack, slowly emptying it as if quick and reckless actions would alter the results. The envelope was there, but empty. He bit a white knuckle, trying to keep composed. The keys were gone, along with the car.

Toki wanted to slam his fist into the wall but his energy had left him. Instead he fell against it, shoulder and temple hitting hard as he slid down to his knees. He was such a fool. How could he fall for it again? Why couldn’t he just accept the fact that Magnus had never been honest with him? That he wasn’t the man he once thought he knew? That anyone would grow tired of taking care of some needy, useless kid? Tricking him into thinking he was dead was the perfect excuse. He threw the backpack across the room and slumped forward, wrapping his arms around himself tightly and digging his fingers into his upper arms.

He stared down at nothing through heavy-lidded eyes and focused on his breathing until he managed to fend off the looming anxiety attack.

Toki didn’t know what else to do besides wait until he was found.

 

* * *

* * *

 

It had taken a long time and a lot of effort to get here. His ego could only take so much ridicule and his temper could only handle so many _fuck off_ s per night, but it’d be worth it if his arduous search could finally end. And tonight after weeks of jumping from person to person on weak leads, he could see a light at the end of the tunnel.

But Magnus could not admit that he had followed through with tonight out of desperation. The man promised he could get him exactly what he wanted, promised him he had all the right connections and could have it ready the next evening for the right price. His conditions were shady, but considering the nature of the business and his lack of options, Magnus had been quick to accept. He wanted to get this over with before they’d run out of money, and after nearly two weeks of prying around, time and motivation were both running short as well.

Only now, leaning against the entrance to a dead-end alley filled with nothing but a rusty, dilapidated dumpster and stacks of overstuffed garbage bags, did Magnus begin to regret his decision. Though the light pollution of the bright and never sleeping city illuminated the busy streets in the distance, their rendezvous point had been designated just shy of wandering eyes. The stench of city rot and the dark solitude of where he’d been standing for quite some time did not comfort him. But what he needed just couldn’t be found in the small, scattered towns they’d passed through along the highway. A back-alley drug deal in a populous and dirty downtown was the only place he could get what he needed. Magnus tried to remind himself that he’d had years of experience with this sort of exchange…but truthfully, it had been even longer since he’d gotten clean. After remembering a precaution he’d taken back then, he’d hidden his car keys behind a trash bag, but it was too little too late.

Just as he began to build up the resolve to bail before things took a turn for the worst, he heard footsteps. Too many.

The dealer approached, just as he was described, but two other figures sauntered behind him. That had not been part of the agreement. As they advanced on him, Magnus realized the only direction he could move was backwards into the dead end.

“You who we here for tonight?” The middle one spoke, his voice echoing down the alley.

“I am.” Magnus stepped forward in an attempt to build presence. “Let’s make this quick and easy.”

“You got the money?”

“Let me see what I’m buying first.”

 _“You ain’t seein’ shit until_ I _see the money.”_ The man spoke firmly, just short of a snarl, as he raised his chin and gave a challenging, contemptuous glare. The two men shifted in position, completely lax and just as confident.

Magnus knew in the back of his mind what was going to happen the moment they saw green. He hesitated just a second too long and a length of sharp metal gleaned off the lamplight.

“You gonna fuckin’ waste my time?”

He was such an idiot. Though he’d been sure to bring his knife as always, he couldn’t take the three of them. He couldn’t even run. There was no other choice. His hand reached for the wad of cash, all they had had remaining, in the inner pocket of his jacket. His eyes flashed down for split second as he did so, but when they shot back up, only two men stood before him. The dealer smirked at the sight of the money and Magnus heard movement to his left. He couldn’t turn his head fast enough to see what struck him. His vision went black. He didn’t even feel his knees give out or the sensation of falling – there was only excruciating pain and darkness and name not his own on his lips. And then his consciousness cut out.

 

* * *

* * *

 

Five AM.

Eyes half closed and trapped in a daze of drowsy resignation, Toki hadn’t moved an inch. Sometimes he dragged his gaze up from the carpet to clock on the nightstand. The seconds ticked by so slowly, but the hour had passed in the blink of an eye. He suspected he only had five, maybe seven hours at most remaining. How long could he endure the streets again before his will bent and he found himself dialing that number on some stranger’s phone?

Toki was torn from his wallowing and nearly jumped right out of his skin at the sudden barrage of slams on the door. It rattled against its hinges with each violent strike and immediately Toki flew to his feet, expecting none other than the Assassin, finally come to deliver him back home in pieces. But the muffled voice that came through the door almost stopped his pounding heart entirely.

_“It’s me. Open the fucking door.”_

He nearly tore it from its frame and Magnus came stumbling in, one hand held at the side of his head, the other clasped over his nose and mouth. But all Toki saw was red. The front of his shirt was soaked, his hair clumped in wet red-glinting locks, both hands and even the grey streaks of his hair and beard appeared as if they’d been dipped in dye. Toki could see how it had dripped from his hands to his wrists then down his arms into the sleeve of his jacket like melting wax. And when Magnus brought his hands down to look into his slick palms, Toki’s jaw dropped in a mix of fascination and shock.

He couldn’t process the fact that Magnus could bleed.

Deep red blood, almost black where it ran the thickest, streamed from his nose, gushing over his lips, past his chin, then down his throat. The left side of his face, from temple to jaw, was stained and a darkening red trail much like a slash led from his nose across his left cheek. It was clear he had been severely injured and left lying on his side for some time as blood pooled under his head, but Toki’s brain had all but shut down and he couldn’t comprehend it.

Magnus had only stopped for a moment in the doorway to look at his hands in the light before pushing past Toki and rushing to the sink. The faucet squeaked and he lowered himself to the water, splashing handfuls over his face. But his efforts were in vain, Toki observed in the mirror, as the blood continued to gush from his nose, the water only serving to dilute it.

Even in shock, he couldn’t deny the massive wave of relief that Magnus’ sudden return had granted him, injured or not. And once he finally acknowledged that this was indeed the real Magnus and he had in fact come back, reality hit him in full force. Magnus was fucking _bleeding_. Toki dashed to the bathroom, tearing off a long section of toilet paper and wadding it up before stopping short of Magnus’ side.

“Here…” He offered it forward, expecting his hand to be slapped away, but Magnus took it in silence, pressing his nose closed with it and tilting his head forward.

Neither spoke as they waited for his nose to clot. When the tissues had grown too wet, Toki fetched more and pulled the trash can closer, but Magnus wouldn’t even make eye contact, but it wasn’t his usual stubborn disregard for Toki’s presence. He almost seemed ashamed to be seen like this, but there was something guilty in his silence. Having spent the last five hours suspended in torment, Toki needed answers.

“Are you okay?”

Magnus looked away, but pulled the tissue back to find the bleeding had finally seemed to stop.

“I’m fine.”

“How-”

“There’s blood on the door. You need to go wash it off.”

Magnus’ attempt at redirecting the subject only fanned the fires and Toki knew he would regret what he was about to finally do: argue back.

“I wills! But first just tells me hows you got likes this! Why ams you so late when you said you’d be back by midnights, and at first I thoughts you were deads but then I saw you tooks all the moneys and-”

“Toki, just shut up.”

“I can’ts just shut up! I’m tired of nots knowing anythings! I’m stuck insides all day while you gets to go out and do anythings you want! And I don’ts even know if you’ll ever come back! Why won’ts you tells me an-”

“JUST SHUT UP!”

Toki immediately recoiled, taking a few steps back as Magnus turned towards him menacingly with a venomous glare.

“You think I’ve been going out to have _fun_? You think I want to be out there, sucking up to _scum_ and putting my ass on the line just so I can get your _fucking medicine_?!”

“Wh-”

“You wanna know what happened?! I fucked up, alright? I fucked up! I got my ass kicked and they stole everything we had left! Every fucking penny!”

“…Magnus…”

“…What?” The word, hesitant, felt so weak in the wake of his explosion.

Toki lightly tapped just over his own upper lip and Magnus, touching under his nose, quickly got the hint. His nosebleed had begun again, perhaps caused by the way his face twisted during his outburst and violent confession. Defeated, a sigh escaped his freshly bloodied lips as he turned to get more toilet paper.

Toki backed away, leaving Magnus to handle himself. He tried to piece together everything that had just happened. Magnus hadn’t been going out alone just to avoid staying in the room. He’d been dealing with all sorts of seedy people in an attempt to get a hold of insulin. Every time he went out, every time Toki doubted he’d come back, he’d been risking it all just to keep Toki alive. And now they were penniless and Magnus was probably in worse condition than he’d ever admit.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, Toki stared idly at the black screen of the flatscreen TV. He’d never considering stealing before, even back then. He’d been flat broke on the streets before in a situation not much different than this, but back then he’d just escaped an abusive relationship. This one was still going strong. But Magnus could cry and Magnus could bleed. Toki knew Magnus had a heart in there somewhere. Naïve as it was, Magnus’ presence meant hope. As long as he wasn’t alone, he wouldn’t give up so easily. They just needed to work together.

“…What are we goings to do?”

Magnus shook his head slowly, careful not to trigger the bleeding he’d just stopped. He’d resumed avoiding eye contact.

“I don’t know.”

The answer wasn’t good enough for Toki. This wasn’t how things were going to end.


	12. Snapshots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8000 words of gay tears.

After his last encounter with the seedier side of the city, resuming business with shady people was just as stressful as expected. Without money and low on gas, the only answer was to sell the car itself to get back on their feet. His lesson learned, Magnus took extra precautions in finding and securing a buyer. In only two days time, the transaction was completed without any difficulties, but for a car with no papers, swapped plates, and no inspection, Magnus could only pull a single grand out of the deal. Desperation had driven him to settle for less but without money for food, it had been two days since he’d eaten. The tiny stock of cereal and small snacks that they had liberated from the motel breakfasts had all gone to Toki under Magnus’ orders. Though his cigarette cravings had often made him even hungrier than usual, he knew the food was better saved for Toki, whose blood sugar needed at the very least some maintenance.

With the wad of cash stashed away, Magnus at first felt at ease, glad to have even more then what they started off with and free from the worry of gas leeching their funds, but the truth began to dawn on him. This money was their last lifeline. If he couldn’t make more money by the end of this meager one thousand, they wouldn’t be able to afford food and more importantly, Toki’s insulin.

As if being mocked by the sky, the morning they were to sell the car, the blue sky was shrouded by grey clouds just before the first snowflakes of winter began to fall. Without a car to sleep in, they turned back to the cheapest motel the city had to offer – still more than double their norm. Once they settled for the night, Magnus took the remaining cash and set aside money for Toki’s insulin and needles. He couldn’t stop looking now. There were leads he had yet to explore and this time he would take every precaution possible. But by the week’s end, half of what the car brought in had gone straight to the motel room and nothing had panned out. Going over the remaining money, Magnus knew he needed to make the decision he’d been expecting since he sold the car. Hoping there would be no objections, he called Toki over to discuss and plan their next move.

“We have less than two hundred left,” he said, displaying the money for Toki to see. “That’ll cover us for two more days, tops but then we’ll be left with nearly nothing for food and emergencies. I think we need to cut our losses and save this money instead of burning through it so fast.”

“You want to stay outsides…?”

“…I checked the forecast. It won’t snow again for a while.”

“I don’ts have a coats…”

Magnus closed his eyes with a sigh. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Have you evers been homeless befores?”

Though he was surprised at the question, Magnus found little point in not answering truthfully. “…I… Couch-surfed back in the day…”

“But nevers on the streets.”

“No.”

Toki gave a faint, somber smile. “It’s not reallies all that funs.”

“What a shock. And what, you speak from experience?”

“Yups. I tolds you before.”

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” Magnus grumbled. He didn’t doubt it. The chance that he’d missed something like that was extremely high. He had always been completely inattentive during the times they’d hung out. Magnus couldn’t have cared less about Toki’s stories - which were always too fast paced and littered with nonsense words - and had only feigned interest as he zoned out, often times absorbed in an elaborate fantasy of ringing Toki’s neck. Of course now he wondered if he’d been a bit more inquisitive he probably could have learned about his scars.

“Take a shower in the morning.” Magnus stood up and took a few bills from their small reserve, changing the subject. “It may be the last one you get for a long time.”

That night, he returned with a jacket, more accurately Toki’s size than any of the clothes he had been wearing, and dropped it on the bed. It wasn’t as thick as either of them would have liked, but it was better than nothing against the unavoidable chill of the coming winter nights.

 

* * *

 

The morning they checked out of the motel for the final time, Magnus and Toki wandered the streets. The snow of the previous few days had mostly melted, but the wind was strong and piercing. On the bright side, however, Magnus was grateful to have a reason for them to both shroud their faces in their jackets’ hoods as they walked through crowds of busy people.

With nothing else to do but mourn the loss of a warm place to stay, Magnus decided to lead Toki around the city and teach him what he’d learned from his week-long fruitless search. Every street had an alley, and many were narrow, dark, and dangerous at night. Perhaps Toki had spent time being homeless, but back then he was probably neither someone famous and recognizable nor being hunted by a world-class killer. Now that they were without a safe place to lock Toki in where he couldn’t get himself in trouble, Magnus ordered him to stay close at all times and to never leave his sight. And Toki, of course, seemed all too eager to oblige.

They made a few stops in buildings to escape the cold, even for a few short minutes, before continuing on to nowhere in particular. As the sun disappeared behind the towering skyscrapers and the temperature continued to drop, they slipped inside a late night fast food restaurant to curtail the inevitable.

Trying to avoid suspicion, they ordered something small and cheap for Toki to eat as they sat in the back of the building, as far as possible from the staff and other diners that came and left. After Toki finished his food, they talked about nothing as they sat with still nothing to do but wait until they were either kicked out or the restaurant closed. Toki’s eyelids began to droop while they sat around until eventually he couldn’t hold his head up any longer. Still trying to reply to Magnus’ words, he lowered it to the table, resting it against his arm and closing his eyes. Magnus let the idle conversation die out as Toki drifted in and out, his eyes fluttering open every now and then, perhaps to check if Magnus was still there, before finally shutting in sleep.

Magnus exhaled slowly, elbow rooted against the table and head resting in his palm. He stared down at Toki’s sleeping face as he fought off the panic he’d been swallowing back all day. There had to be a way to make fear productive, he thought. There had to be more options than what first came to mind. Seeking out a shelter would have to be their very last option. Too many people, too many risks. There had to be another public building where they could stay without raising suspicion… Magnus had nearly given up when it finally hit him. He hadn’t yet to see one, but a city as big as this surely had a library somewhere. If the hours were generous, they could stay there the bulk of the night under the guise of reading or working.

As their second hour in the restaurant neared and business began to slow, Magnus noticed the cashiers side-eying them as they cleaned off nearby tables, and when the manager began making herself more and more present, Magnus knew it was finally time. As he rose to his feet, he calmly called Toki’s name and quietly informed him that it was time to leave. Magnus felt eyes on his back as they left.

The cold cut into them again as they stepped outside. Toki looked up at the sky in a half awake daze as the wind pulled him from his drowsiness.

“Come on…” Magnus set out, heading across the parking lot with Toki at his heels.

They walked until Toki couldn’t walk anymore and Magnus knew they needed to find somewhere to rest for the night. Toki hadn’t taken his shot yet. Finding an unoccupied and private area took time, but soon they were sitting in an alley similar to the one Magnus got his ass kicked in. Settling down, they sat feet apart. Magnus handed Toki the backpack and after his shot, Toki huddled up against the wall and shrunk into his jacket, quickly falling back asleep. Magnus, however, could not tear his eyes from the entrance of the alley, his mind racing with paranoia. More thugs, cops, the Assassin himself… He envied Toki’s ability to rest so easily. And though the remainder of their first night outside was quiet and uneventful, it was long, cold, miserable, and just the beginning.

 

* * *

 

As Magnus had hoped, the city was home to a public library. It fortunately proved to be a decent refuge where they could wash their hands and faces in the bathrooms and relax on the quiet study floors in their own corner. The smell of heated rooms and old, dusty books was a comforting change of pace, but the visiting hours fell short of convenient and they were always back outside just before the early winter nightfall. Still, determined to take advantage of what they could, they returned morning after morning to retreat to the same corner in order to rid themselves of the chill that sank deep into their bones every night. With very few people around, it was as good a place as any to eke out a plan for the coming weeks.

“Listen,” Magnus’ voice was a low, almost a whisper. “We’re doing alright so far, and I don’t want to jinx it, but we can’t keep spending money without making money.” This was an issue he’d been putting off for a very long time now, and of course it had finally come to bite them in the ass. “I don’t think we’re in any position to get jobs, so we need to think a little outside of the box now, you understand?”

“I thinks…” Toki was hesitant but it was clear he understood the implications.

“I knew it would come to this, so I’ve been thinking of a plan.”

“Betters than the last ones?”

It came out all too innocently. Magnus shot a venomous glare at Toki and continued.

“There are a lot of parking lots full of cars all over the place. We just look for the unlocked ones. Even if it’s just a temporary thing, it should help.”

“And if-”

“There are no ifs. We either get away with it or we don’t. I haven’t seen a pawn shop around, so we can start off small - just look for loose money, just take a little so people will hardly even notice it’s gone, not enough to report it. Anything is better than nothing.”

“How longs are we gonna stay here…?” Toki had been struggling to make eye contact at all lately and looked down at his lap as he spoke.

“I was thinking…depending on how much money we can get, we can get a ride out to somewhere else. On a fucking bus or something, I don’t know. To somewhere else where we can just keep winging it like we’ve been. It’s just… We can’t leave here until I get your insulin. This is the best place to get it.”

“Do you have to do whats you did last times?”

“I don’t have options. It’s that or...” He shrugged, at a loss. “Break into a fucking pharmacy. Or bribe someone working there. And something tells me neither of those will go over so well.” But he didn’t need to be reminded that his first attempt wasn’t exactly a shining example of success either.

“But I gets to go with you this times?”

“Yes,” Magnus sighed, finally conceding, “but you being there will just make things more complicated. When the time comes, you don’t open your mouth. You don’t even look at them. And if they want me to go alone, you hide somewhere and you don’t come out, no matter what happens, you understand?”

“Yes.” Toki nodded faintly, trying to meet Magnus’ gaze to show his sincerity, but Magnus leaned back in his chair, his eyes darting from Toki to follow a woman as she walked past their table until she was out of sight. Perhaps he was a bit too on edge but he couldn’t shake the feeling they were being watched.

“Anyway,” he began again, trying to focus on the more immediate matters, “first things first. We’ll start out at night…”

 

* * *

 

Plans, no matter how simple they were, were always easier said than done.

In order to familiarize themselves with the area and what to expect, Magnus led Toki through their target streets and parking lots during the mornings. Night after night they would follow through with the plan: Toki would keep a lookout while Magnus searched for cars that had been left unlocked. He would then quickly raid whatever loose change or cash was lying around – but it was of course less than lucrative.

Unlike most nights after scouting out cars, they had returned to the library early because of the weather. With the freezing wind like arrows piercing their thin coats and very little success in their endeavors, Magnus made the call to cut their losses.

“This is all for today.” He slid over a few dollars and coins to the center of the table. “Guess there’s no arguing with a few more days of food.”

Looking over their paltry earnings, Toki groaned weakly in disappointment. He seemed even more frustrated than Magnus and they’d only started a few days ago.

“I wish I could just gets to my own moneys.”

“Wouldn’t that be just wonderful,” Magnus replied dryly, folding up the bills. “Wonder if they even left you anything.”

“…Probablies not…”

“Eh, fuck ‘em.” Magnus stood and put the rest of the money away. The library would be closing soon. “Like I said, we’re doing okay on our own, despite the circumstances.” Toki didn’t seem to be all too convinced, so Magnus decided he could spare some praise for once. “…Good job today. Let’s get something to eat.” As he turned and pulled on his jacket, Magnus noticed Toki’s eyes widen as the praise processed. He rolled his eyes and began walking off, smiling faintly at the sound of Toki scrambling up from the desk and frantically catching up behind him.

 

* * *

 

Withdrawal induced cravings often crept up on Magnus when he least expected them. Just as he was beginning to feel confident in his progress, they would strike without warning like an earthquake shaking him to the core. They only lasted a few minutes but he had to fight not to draw Toki’s attention until they faded out. Magnus caught him on the occasion glancing down at his knuckles, dry and cracking and raw in places after taking on the abuse his fingernails had already suffered. As stupid as Toki was, even he was capable of noticing when Magnus’ breathing grew deeper and irregular, when his hands were near his mouth, and when he began talking and talking about nothing. It was enough that Toki, who was perhaps not as imperceptive as Magnus had assumed, could see the correlation and its cause.

In a narrow alley scrawled with graffiti both artistic and obscene, the two sat under the broken window of a rundown building, hidden from view of the people walking down the adjoining street by an equally offensive dumpster. After the library closed, neither had exactly built up an appetite for the same old fast food they’d been subsisting on for the past several weeks. But as soon as the craving hit, Magnus suddenly found himself both hungry and craving food they couldn’t afford. He tried not to dwell on his hunger, though it would have been better than his craving for a cigarette, because the only option he had was so unappetizing he felt his stomach flip at the mere thought. His tongue ran over the damage he had done to the inside of his lip and his fingers were suddenly at his mouth. He caught Toki’s quick glance, hesitated, and shoved his hand into his jacket pocket. Dwelling on hunger it was.

“You never really realize how much food you waste when you're not on the streets and starving..." He just needed to talk himself through it and it would fade.

Toki was casual in his response, probably expecting Magnus to strike up a conversation after seeing him nearly chew his hands off.

"Fast food ams not... _so_ bad. When I gots used to it at leasts..."

"I'm sick of it. I'd rather starve than see another fucking hamburger again."

"But there's nothings else we cans eat?"

"Not really. Fuck…” Trapped in his pockets, his hands were restless. “We should have stopped staying at hotels earlier. Just one day earlier wouldn’t have made much difference and we could have had some real goddamn food."

"Like froms a real restaurants?"

"Yeah. Nothing fancy like you're probably used to eating. But something nicer than _this_ bullshit. You know, the last expensive meal I had was at some place only rich-ass motherfuckers like you ever get to set foot in. And only now do I regret not actually enjoying it." He gave a dark laugh. "I drank so much threw it all up later that night."

"...Were you there alones?"

"Wh- fuck _no,_ I wasn't there eating alone, asshole."

"S-sorrys. I..."

"Hard to imagine me socializing with _people?_ "

Toki looked down in shame. “That and… Never reallies seen you eat, is all…”

That caught Magnus off guard. How was he supposed to explain that he, Magnus Hammersmith, found it difficult to eat in front of other people? It hadn’t just been the alcohol that made him throw up – he’d forced himself to eat in front of someone that night and the anxiety had gotten to his stomach.

"Well...” He gripped the wrist of his pocketed hand tightly, thinking of a way to avoid that part of the story. “You're not wrong. I was only there to get an in with the prick who founded that fucking camp. I needed a job and, well…”

“How dids you get the jobs if you were so drunks?”

Magnus looked at Toki incredulously. “I waited until I got home, idiot.”

“Oh…”

It was quiet for a moment before Magnus felt himself continue without being prompted. Never being able to complain and never particularly wanting to share it with someone before, it was as if Toki had broken the dam that held everything back.

“I got home and tried to drink myself unconscious because I was so disgusted with myself for being such a suck up. I had to act so _excited_ and enthusiastic about taking part of one of the most pathetic organizations on the planet because I was desperate for something music related. And then I drank even more because he seemed to _like_ me and I knew I had the job.” Magnus’ face twisted as he recalled the memory. It wasn’t Magnus the man had liked – it was the façade he’d put up. Anyone would like a man who was normal, untroubled, balanced and in it for the people and the music rather than himself. They knew who he was but they didn’t care. They didn’t care that he had stabbed his friend over petty bullshit. He was, and _had_ been, so far detached from the name _Dethklok_ it was as if everything he’d done until he was kicked out had been wiped from the public memory. No one cared. No one gave a shit. It didn’t matter how much potential he had or could have had. All that mattered was how fake he could act over some rich asshole’s dinner.

He realized he'd talked far too much. Toki seemed engrossed in the explanation but Magnus tried to backtrack in order to distract Toki from where his thoughts had begun heading.

"...So yeah. Puked all night."

And now that he was recalling everything, he wasn't so sure he wanted food like that again after all.

"I had a bits of a drinkings problems, too..." Toki’s words were laced with chagrin and Magnus could have sworn he was holding back a sheepish smile.

 _"I never said I had a drinking problem,"_ Magnus snapped, narrowing his eyes. He'd fight back all of Toki's assumptions...annoyingly accurate as they were. "And Jesus I _know_ you had a drinking problem. Every single time we'd-"

His voice hitched in his throat as he realized the territory he was now treading in.

“It’s okays.” Toki gave Magnus a weak smile before his eyes fell to the ground, waiting for Magnus to continue. “I reallies don’ts care. You can talks about it.”

But Magnus couldn’t even finish the sentence. He’d dredged up enough of the past as it was, and he’d managed to avoid talking about their “friendship” - and subsequently his lies - all the way until now. He’d wanted to pretend like it never happened, or at least give off the impression that he’d forgotten all about their time spent together. It felt a bit surreal, now that he thought about it. He had been pretending to be a completely different person then and back then, Toki was just as different. The memories felt more like he’d been watching a very long movie starring two people completely unlike the two now sitting out with the trash in some alley that faintly smelled like piss.

“Fuck it.” Magnus stood. “Are you hungry yet? Let’s just go get a fuckin’ burger like always and stop whining about it.”

Toki rose and followed him and not another word was shared between them the rest of the night.

 

* * *

 

The once tolerable nights grew colder. Nearly asleep, Magnus blinked awake at the soft, icy flecks on his face. Looking up at the grey sky, he extended his palm upward to catch the snowflakes that were beginning to fall.

“Shit…”

He heard Toki stir off to the side.

“It’s snowing agains…?” Disoriented and half asleep, Toki looked up as well.

“Yeah…” Magnus sighed, rubbing his temples. He hadn’t had the chance to check the weather, but even if he had, what could they do? They were already layered up with the extra clothes he’d packed but an additional layer of thin fabric wasn’t going to help in a snowstorm should it come to that. All they could do was hope it wouldn’t get worse.

As Magnus watched the snow fall, his gaze drifted down from the sky to Toki hands, palms up. They were splotched with purple and red from the cold, but his expression told Magnus he found the snow more bittersweet than upsetting. He closed his eyes as flakes flecked his cheeks and quickly melted, his mouth turning in perhaps the first genuine smile Magnus had seen in a very long time. He'd been so certain Toki had forgotten how to smile at all that the image left him momentarily stunned, but the moment Toki’s eyes opened again, the sadness in them overshadowed the smile entirely.

Magnus turned away and leant back against the wall, uninterested in further pondering something he did not understand.

 

* * *

 

Unable to catch a break, the snow came down heavy and continued falling for several days. While Toki seemed to sleep soundly, Magnus could barely even close his eyes at night, his mind too caught up on the cold and how his body ached from shivering and trembling. The first morning after a long sleepless night, they returned to their table in the library as soon as it opened, but exhausted, Magnus found his eyelids growing heavy. Unable to keep his head up or eyes open, he retreated to the floor, propped up in their corner against the wall and a bookshelf.

Toki gave a little cough before speaking and cleared his throat. “Tired?”

“I’m just gonna…” Eyes closed, Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sleep for a bit… You stay here. Don’t go anywhere. Just…read a book or something. You know how to read right?”

If Toki tried to defend himself, Magnus didn’t hear it before he was out.

Every following night was the same. Having to face the temperature lows while miserably awake, Magnus slept the afternoons away in the same manner, causing their productivity to drop drastically. While it was actually far safer to alternate sleeping schedules so they wouldn’t be robbed or attacked while both asleep outside, the freezing cold paired with his exhaustion forced them to spend as much time inside as possible instead of searching for cars to break into. The dry cold was easy enough to handle but now their shoes and pants were drenched by snow melting from what little body heat they retained. By the time they had dried, the library would close and they’d be back outside, huddled up at the end of some alleyway, slowly being covered by another blanket of snow.

 

* * *

 

A sudden noise nearly made Magnus jump out of his skin. He’d been sitting awake one night, his guard lowered as he wondered fretted about Toki’s insulin when the sound had him shoot up straight, looking for its source before realizing it had just been Toki coughing. He inhaled sharply and lowered himself back against the wall, trying to calm his nerves, but just as he’d begun to relax he was startled again by a sudden gasp. He twisted around again, and when he saw Toki had moved forward, resting on his hands and knees, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, he began to grow annoyed.

“What?” It came out in a growl, but Magnus was almost relieved to have something to distract him from his boredom and worrisome thoughts.

But Toki did not reply, let alone acknowledge Magnus in the slightest. His head turned upwards, lips quivering and eyebrows furrowing in fear as he stared up at the dark sky as if something were there.

Feeling like an idiot for half expecting something to be there, Magnus looked up at the starless grey sky only to find nothing of interest.

“Tok-” Magnus cut himself off as he realized Toki’s mouth was in fact not trembling from the cold but moving as he muttered something quietly but desperately. It sounded like gibberish at first but as Magnus listened closer, he realized it was another language entirely.

“Ikke igjen. Vær så snill.” Toki coughed and swallowed hard, his gaze still on the sky. “Mor? Far? Jeg beklager så mye...”

Magnus stared in confusion, unsure of what to do. Toki appeared completely out of it but his eyes were open and he was sitting up, seemingly perfectly conscious but…

"Kan dere høre meg?” Toki’s voice grew louder as he hung his head. “Jeg er redd! Det er skummelt her nede! Jeg lover å oppføre meg! Vær så snill!” He fell back against the wall and brought his knees back up to his chest, burying his face in his arms once again. His back shook, alternating between quiet sobs and stifled coughs, and Magnus finally began to understand.

He’d had his fair share of night terrors. But he had always been alone when he’d faced his. He didn’t know what to do for Toki. Shaking him awake, touching him at all, only for Toki to wake up and be greeted with the face of what he assumed was haunting his nightmares… Magnus didn’t want to exacerbate the problem.

Instead, he kept his distance as usual and waited for Toki’s body to become still again, trying not to remember the things he had done that Toki was undoubtedly reliving.

 

* * *

 

“Did you hear me?”

No response.

“Toki.”

“Wha-? Yeah. Yeah.” Toki jumped at his name, blinking back into awareness.

“The fuck is your problem today? You’re not listening.”

“I’m sorries, I’m listenings I swears-” Toki lowered his head and covered his mouth as he coughed.

Magnus glared back at him. “Then repeat what I said.”

“…We needs to figure out somethings better, something whats we can makes more money off…”

Magnus groaned and rubbed his temples, elbows on the library table. “I did say that. Ten minutes ago.”

The tint in Toki’s cheeks stood out against his slightly paler than usual complexion. “I’m s-“

Magnus stopped him by shaking his head. “In summary, I was saying you need to ration what you have left of your insulin. More than you’re doing now.”

“I don’ts know if that’s a good ideas but… I’ll needs more needles…”

“…And I said I’ll see what I can do about that.” Syringes were easy enough to buy and they weren’t expensive, but now in a different state, he hoped the law here wouldn’t require a prescription.

“There reallies ams not much insulins left…”

“I know. We’re gonna get a hold of more, alright? I just need you to hang in there a little longer.”

Toki nodded solemnly. “Yeah...”

It’d been a while since they’d had the time to continue the search for his medicine and Magnus was beginning to severely regret it. By sleeping in the day and wallowing in self pity at night, he’d been slacking off to an unacceptable degree. He couldn’t tell if it was his lack of motivation to do anything anymore or if it was simply him being scared of another idiotic failure and losing more than just money.

 

* * *

 

Magnus sneezed.

And sneezed.

And sneezed.

His eyes were itching and burning and he could not for the life of him figure out why. Meanwhile, every time he glanced at Toki, who had been acting a bit odd, his face would twist in a desperate attempt not to smile. Magnus of course did not see what was so funny.

The library as they had come to learn was closed on Sundays, but the dreary clouds had parted for a few hours to allow the sun a chance to warm their faces as they walked to their choice of fast food for the morning. At some point in the night Magnus had actually managed to fall asleep, only waking when assaulted with a sneezing fit. Since then, Toki had been behaving strangely. He slumped when he walked and kept his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, all while avoiding eye contact even more than usual as if harboring some kind of shameful secret. But tired and cold and miserably itchy, Magnus just wanted to get inside before making any serious inquisitions.

In the restaurant, he left Toki at the table with the food in order to wash his face in the bathroom, hoping to flush out whatever was agitating his eyes, but upon his return, he caught Toki slouching in his seat, looking down the collar of his jacket and grinning like an idiot. One hand held the collar up so he could peer down at what Magnus could only assume was his stomach while the fingers of his other hand had slipped up and under the jackets hem. Hearing Magnus approach, Toki bolted upright, pulling his hand out and pressing the jacket flat against his chest – save for a small lump at his stomach where the jacket folded.

“Care to explain what the fuck you’re doing?”

“I-… Wells I-I was justs sittings here, waitings on you!”

Magnus leered down at him. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”

“Reallies! Cross my hearts and hopes to-”

A sharp mewl cut through the air and Magnus lifted his chin, staring down at Toki through a disbelieving glare.

 _“What the fuck was that.”_ Oh, he knew _exactly_ what it was.

Toki’s face flushed red and he looked down at the ground again like a child caught red-handed.

Magnus looked around the restaurant – no one had noticed or heard the sound. He shot back around, moving in closer to Toki and lowering his voice to an angry whisper.

“Did you seriously bring a fucking cat in here?!”

“I-”

“Jesus, Toki, _why?”_ Now the sneezing and itching made sense. Magnus knew he was allergic to cats but the idea of one stuffed under Toki’s jacket being the cause hadn’t even crossed his mind, it was so ridiculous.

“It was all alones and it was so cold and I couldn’ts just leave it there…”

Magnus eyed Toki’s half eaten food suspiciously. “You’re not feeding it your own food, are you?”

“N-no.” The most obvious lie yet.

Magnus groaned and sat down roughly, rubbing his burning eyes. “You’re gonna go back and you’re gonna put that thing right where you found it.” He spoke slowly and deliberately to show there was no room for dispute.

“But he was all alones, sleepings in the snow! I can’ts just lets him die…”

“You think we can afford this thing? I can barely even keep you alive! We don’t need this right now!”

As his response, Toki unzipped his jacket halfway, revealing the small orange and white kitten curled up on his stomach, sleeping away like it was deaf to the argument taking place just inches over its tiny ears. Perhaps he thought seeing the kitten, not possibly more than a month old, would appeal to Magnus’ emotions but he instead reeled back, sneezing yet again. A distant “bless you” came from someone sitting across the room.

“Toki, I can’t live like this,” Magnus began again, shaking his head and wiping the wetness from his eyes. “Just leave it somewhere where someone can find it. They’ll be able to take better care of it than we can.”

“Please, just for todays and then I’ll puts him somewheres I swears!”

If they had not been in public, Magnus knew he would have viciously snapped back at both the outrageous request and Toki’s audacity to even _ask,_ especially after his attempts at being civil and nice about something to stupid.

But…

Toki had been dragging in the past few days, unresponsive and easily worn-out. The kitten’s presence, while making his own life far more miserable than it already was, had made Toki a bit livelier. If it meant giving Toki just one legitimate thing to be happy about for the first time in months…

“Just make sure it’s gone by the morning…” Magnus begrudgingly groaned. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Just hide it before we get fucking kicked out of here.”

“Oh, thank you!” Toki’s face was beaming as he carefully zipped his jacket up. “I promise you won’ts even notice he’s there! He sleeps a lots, so he’s won’ts be any troubles!”

“Yeah, no trouble at all,” Magnus muttered, rubbing a watering eye. “Just keep it away from me.”

The rest of the day was all too long for Magnus as they wandered about in search of unlocked cars in an attempt to catch up on lost time – but with a kitten in tow. When they finally sat down again for the night, Magnus slunk even further away from Toki than usual, peering over occasionally to see him smiling down his jacket at the lump, his arms pulled into the torso of the jacket so he could pet the kitten while keeping their shared warmth contained.

Magnus eventually closed his eyes, hoping he could sleep as he had managed the night before. As he drifted off, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had made the right decision.

Morning granted him his answer.

He woke to find Toki is sniffling, knees up like always with his face buried into his inner elbow. Still addled with sleep, Magnus sat straight and blinked until his mind cleared. The sky was grey and gloomy once again. It was still dark, perhaps before six in the morning, and a light fog was settling around them.

“What are you crying about now?”

Toki looked up, his eyes even redder than Magnus’ had been the previous day. His jacket rested snugly around his stomach and waist – there was no cat-shaped lump to be seen.

“Uhm…” Toki palmed away any tears on his face, his voice quivering, unable to push the words from his throat.

“What, the cat run away or something?”

“…Y-yeah…” Toki swallowed hard and clenched his jaw as soon as the word had been uttered. He pulled the hood over his head and hid his face in his arms and knees once again.

And Magnus understood.

He left him in silence until Toki’s voice, quiet but clear, cut through the fog.

“It’s my fault… I should have listeneds to you.”

Magnus didn’t know what to say so he chose not to say anything at all.

“Someones else could have helped him, but I was too selfish… And he…”

_There was nothing you or anyone could have done._

_The mother probably left it because it knew it was sick._

_That’s just life. Deal with it._

_It’s better off now. It’s not suffering._

_You should have listened to me. It really is your fault._

_You gave it the chance to pass in warmth instead of freezing to death._

Magnus wanted to say something, anything, even if it was harsh and heartless, even if he didn’t believe it himself, but the words would not come.

 

* * *

 

“Get up.”

Magnus was met with another silence.

“Hey.” He stood over Toki, who was still curled up in the warmth of his jacket, but Toki did not even stir. Magnus raised a foot to shake Toki from his sleep but froze before making contact. Exhaling slowly, his breath was a cloud all too reminiscent of smoke; he couldn’t escape that split-second vivid memory where he was back in that basement, smoking a cigarette all too casually while kicking Toki around until all he could do was curl up and brace himself in a futile attempt to dull each sharp blow. Magnus knelt down now instead. He hadn’t so much as touched Toki since the night he promised that he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to ruin it now.

“Wake up.”

Toki’s eyes opened slowly, but they stared at nothing even as they slowly drifted up towards Magnus.

“Come on, we need to get moving.”

“…Oh…”

“That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m cold…”

“No shit. Now get up so we can get inside somewhere so you won’t be.”

Toki nodded, but his eyes fell heavy lingering just barely open before shutting once again.

“Toki.” Magnus was quickly growing agitated, but even nudging Toki was out of the question. _“Fucking get up.”_

And Toki’s eyes flew open and he woke with a start as if he’d been pushed off a cliff.

“We goings now?”

“Yes for the last time,” Magnus growled, turning around and beginning to head out to the street. “Now hurry up or you’re gonna get left behind.”

“W-wait! I’m comings, I-” Toki tried to scramble to his feet, slipping in the snow and just barely catching himself. The burn of ice and small rocks against his palms and knees must have stung through their numbness, however, because Toki brought his hands together with a quiet whimper, trying to rub the pain away as he brought himself back to his feet and quickly followed after Magnus.

Magnus turned away and looked up at the sky with a sigh, pursing his lips in discontent. He shouldn’t have said something like that without expecting such a reaction. Stopping and waiting for Toki to limp as quickly as he could back to his side, Magnus watched him from the corner of his eye as he coughed against a balled hand and clutched the fabric at his chest.

 

* * *

 

They were trapped in stagnancy. Numb and long, every night was the same and Magnus could no longer find the motivation to begin the day. Another night, another dead-end alleyway, another mass of snow to shake off their shoulders by morning, another day of being unable to face the harsh reality that their resources, their time, their endurance, were all running out.

Backs against cold brick, they sat perfectly still as the snow began to coat their trembling bodies for yet another night. Toki often fell into a deep restless sleep while Magnus still remained awake but suspended in semi-consciousness, staring past his knees down at the cornea-searing white of the snow. Impressively large snowflakes fluttered onto snowy mounds before being assimilated into them. It was easier to get through the cold if he could zone out entirely and dissociate. When his mind and body were put into a cold-induced stasis, he didn’t have to worry about much else other than the size of snowflakes as they fell.

But, much as he longed for the chance to fall unconscious to escape it all as Toki did, he could not allow himself the luxury. Someone needed to keep an eye on their surroundings, but no one ever bothered them… His eyelids grew heavier. No one even knew they were there… His eyes closed. Nothing was ever happening to them. There was no sign of the Assassin. None of the cops in this city were after him. Sure he had been mugged. But it hadn’t been anything personal. It was a dog eat dog world out there after all. He’d always known that. So then what was the point of worrying? What was there to even worry about? If he could just go to sleep, he might not even ever have to wake up…

A sudden shuddering weight at his side shook him out of it.

Toki, previously half slumped over in his sleep and more than a foot away, had somehow moved and fallen against him. His body rolled with chills and his teeth chattered as he began to desperately cling to the only warmth he could find. Grimacing at the contact, Magnus gripped him firmly by the shoulder and pushed him back, but Toki gripped harder, tiny whimpers escaping through short breaths. Magnus could feel heat radiating from his face as he curled inward, nearly taking Magnus’ entire arm hostage. His fever was flaring up again. Magnus continued the struggle to free himself but Toki would not yield. As welcome as additional warmth would have been, he did not want it from Toki. But Magnus hesitated as he felt each surge of shudders course through his body and the way Toki tried to pull closer each time.

He surrendered his arm and simply leant away from Toki without any further resistance, staring out at the pristine white that coated the alley. Their footprints had completely disappeared. How long had they been sitting out here? There were plenty of fast food joints open late and though they’d already been kicked out of quite a number of them, if it meant just a few moments of warm air, hot water to run over their frozen fingers, and a place Toki could lie down without lying in the snow, finding some building they could go into would be worth the risk. Magnus cursed himself for selling the car. If he'd parked it somewhere inconspicuous, they could have still been living out of it. It would have been warmer and safer at the very least. It wasn’t like the money they’d made off it was doing more than keeping them fed. Even the money he set aside for Toki’s insulin mocked him for his inability to do anything right. The point of selling the car had been to ensure Toki’s medicine and he hadn’t even _tried_ to find someone for it again.

If he wasn’t already graying, he would have been more concerned with how constantly he worried these days. But all the worrying in the world wasn’t going to change anything now, not with the trembling body at his side that kept his thoughts grounded. As much as he wanted to give in, he would not let his eyes close, cold and dry as the winter wind had made them. Toki hadn’t given up yet, despite everything, and he had been through a hell of a lot more. There was no giving up yet. They needed change if they were going to make it another week. He’d start in the morning. He wanted to start thinking of something new and productive they do could but, but his thoughts were cut short as Toki began to shift.

“Abi-…?”

Magnus quickly shut his eyes, hoping that if he appeared fast asleep, no questions would be raised about his allowance of contact. And suddenly Toki sat bolt upright, releasing his arm so quickly Magnus felt his own heart skip a beat at the abruptness.

 _“Fuck.”_ Toki’s whisper was just as shocking to hear. _“Fuck fuck fuck…”_ He scrambled away from Magnus until several feet were between them again before gripping himself tightly to fend off another wave of chills. Magnus cracked his eye open and watched as Toki hunched over, coughing violently, until he slid down the wall to his side, curling into fetal position against the ground. His breathing, plagued with coughs from deep within his chest, was heavy and more akin to panting.

Magnus leant forward slightly, hand reaching out on its own, but he was quick to stop it. He wanted to pull Toki back up, to prop him up against the wall and get his face out of the snow if anything, but he thought back to the promise he’d made, to the way Toki had just pulled back from him so fearfully and how he’d reacted to waking up to his face once before. And then he remembered the recent night terror and his expression twisted. But before he could make a decision of his own, the sound of crunching snow and a rough voice nearly brought his heart to a complete stop.

“You two doin’ alright…?”

Magnus whipped around to see a man standing a few steps past the entrance of their alley. Each of the layers of his tattered clothes were as filthy as his face and hands, the latter of which shook in a way that differed from the shivers of cold. Though he was several months unshaven, underneath the beard his face was thin and his eyes seemed bereft of rest. The voice he called out with was feeble and yet firm.

And still while the man hardly gauged as a threat, Magnus jumped to his feet, fighting off the dizziness as he removed the knife from his belt and brandished it in warning.

“Leave us alone.”

“Whoa there,” the man nearly laughed, raising his hands up in submission. “I’m not here to cause any trouble, now. Not much I could do if I wanted to anyway…” He smiled faintly at his shaking hands.

“Then leave already,” Magnus threatened, taking a step forward.

“The kid. He gonna be okay?”

Magnus was taken slightly aback by the stranger’s concern.

“He’s fine.”

“He don’t look like it.”

Looking back down at Toki, Magnus didn’t know whether it was worth trying to keep up the lie. It was clear he was anything but fine.

“Listen, I’ve got a place I’ve been holin’ up in. It’s just me and two others. We got a fire, y’see. At least bring him ‘round for some heat or the kid’s gonna freeze to death out here.” He dipped his head and raised a bushy eyebrow. “You too.”

Magnus wanted nothing more than to be completely alone. He didn’t know if he could handle adding three more people to the mix after managing to avoid dealing with others so far. But Toki shuddered into the snow with a whimper, his teeth beginning to chatter now as if unconsciously trying to guilt Magnus into accepting the man’s offer. Magnus exhaled, weighing his options. Walking straight into a trap was one thing while he was alone, but dragging a sick and weak Toki into it with him? What if someone had recognized him and this was some kind of elaborate scheme to kidnap him? He couldn’t make the same mistake again but… He had to do something. Three people were worth a fire, just for tonight. He gave a firm nod as he forced himself to finally make a decision.

“Take us there.”

With a wave from the homeless man, Magnus hoisted Toki onto his back after a fruitless attempt at waking him with his voice alone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will you ever forgive me


	13. Hanging Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long.

Toki felt like shit.

He was sweaty and clammy, hot and shivering all at once, and each time his body tensed as a shiver assaulted him, his muscles ached. It was something he’d begun to grow used to. But the softness that enveloped him - the fact that he could feel at all – wasn’t. His eyes fluttered open but as he tried to push himself up, his vision blacked in and out.

“Where…?” He gripped his head, trying to stabilize his whirling surroundings.

“Sit up and take this.”

It was Magnus’ voice, quiet and almost cautious, that met him first. Toki reluctantly kept himself propped up with an arm as he turned his head towards the source. Magnus was sitting next to him and before they could even make eye contact, something small was dropped into Toki’s free hand just before something else, something plastic, was shoved into his chest with a loud crunch.

Fighting through the daze, Toki examined what he’d been given. Two painkiller pills from the bottle he thought Magnus had emptied and thrown away days ago and a well used water bottle. The plastic was thin and the label long ripped off and though it was a bit dirty, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Without any further questions, he swallowed the pills one at a time nearly choking in the rush to wet his throat. As he lowered the bottle to his lap, he took the chance to survey his surroundings.

The room was small, messy, and very obviously part of an abandoned building turned temporary living space. In truth, it looked more like a squatter house ready to be condemned than the warehouse office that it once was. The main source of light and only source of heat came from the makeshift fire next to him, contained within an oil drum that had been cut in half, perhaps so the heat would reach people sitting on the cold concrete floor. Several thin blankets surrounded the drum like seats around a campfire, and Toki realized he’d been swathed in a number of them himself. But the warmth was inconsistent as an icy draft alerted him to the large hole in the wall behind him where broken bricks, crumbled concrete, and other debris were pushed into a small pile at the base. While the hole was facing the neighboring warehouse rather than the open street, the heat of the fire seemed to be sapped away by the cold winds that ripped past the opening.

Something moved to his left and Toki nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected and unfamiliar voice that cut through his sleepy daze.

“’Morning, kid.”

Toki twisted around like a snake bit him only to see an old man sitting on a stack of thin foam sheets, covered in dirty blankets and pillows.

“What’s goings on…?” Toki whispered to Magnus without taking his eyes off the smiling old man.

“Calm down. We’re fine. Some…people let us use their fire.”

Toki’s eyes widened. People? There was more than one? He turned around scanning the room again for the others and nearly jumped again when he finally noticed a woman lying languidly on her own makeshift bed, head propped up in a hand and looking particularly bored. A third person lay behind her, their back turned towards the center of the room, fast asleep.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Magnus continued. “We’re leaving as soon as you can walk.”

But where would they even go? Toki had a laundry list of things he wanted to ask, but he couldn’t find the energy to hold a conversation.

“You need to take your shot. I don’t know how much you’ve been giving yourself, so I didn’t do it last night.”

“There’s onlys one more dose…”

Something lit up in Magnus’ eyes but he spoke with hesitation.

“I think we may be able to get more soon. Apparently they know someone.”

“Reallies…?” Nothing could have sounded more relieving.

“They said when that guy over there wakes up, he can tell us where to find his dealer. He even deals prescription shit too.”

“And the monies…?”

“I’ll make sure we can afford it. This could be our only chance.”

“And then..?”

“We do what we’ve been doing.”

The two cut their conversation short as the old man approached them.

“Hey there.” He remained standing over the two, probably unable to kneel in his age. “You feelin’ okay now?”

But Toki could only stare back, dumbstruck and at a loss for what to say. He hadn’t spoken with anyone other than Magnus and Abigail in the past three months. Instead he looked over at Magnus for help, but Magnus only narrowed his eyes in response.

“I’m…”

 _“Speak correctly or don’t speak at all.”_ Magnus’ whisper was nearly inaudible but threatening all the same.

“Yes,” he lied, looking back at the man and nodding lightly. It was the easier thing to say.

“You’re probably hungry, aren’t you? The two of you.”

“We don’t need food,” Magnus replied, redirecting the conversation to himself. “We just need the dealer’s information and we’ll be gone.” He looked in the direction of the sleeping young man, his restlessness clear. Now that Toki was awake, he probably wanted to keep moving. But Toki’s body did not agree. The room still spun around him, his head felt like it’d been struck by a metal pan and his whole body felt clammy. Despite the warmth of the several blankets and a decently sized fire, chills still tormented him. He knew these symptoms were not caused by whatever was making him cough. Having not eaten anything in almost a day now, his blood sugar was dangerously low and his body was beginning to react.

“I need…” Toki began softly before pausing, afraid to contradict what Magnus just said. It was hard to focus at all, let alone speaking perfectly. “Uh…blood sugars…” He shook his head, rubbing his temples. “ _Sugar_.”

He could sense Magnus’ displeasure without even looking at him.

“You guys don’t have any candy or some shit, do you?”

“We don’t,” the old man replied, “but there is a convenience store a bit down the main street… It’s about a ten minute walk from here.”

“Give me the directions,” Magnus sighed, rising to his feet.

“I can take you there.” The woman who had been curiously quiet since Toki had woken up stood up as well, stretching out her back with a groan. “I need to buy more cigarettes anyway.”

Toki shot a look towards Magnus whose jaw clenched at the word. But he didn’t seem to be in the mood for argument.

“Fine. Let’s just make this fast.” He knelt back down to Toki’s level, leaning in to issue his orders in a hushed, low voice. “Do not give them our names and do not ask for theirs. In fact, don’t even talk while I’m gone. I’ll be back soon.”

Toki nodded solemnly and watched in silence as the two slipped outside into the blindingly white street. Once the door closed, he hung his head and dropped his gaze to his hands. Magnus being so close to cigarettes concerned him. Just one little slip up and all that suffering, both his and Toki’s, would have been for nothing. After all, thinking back on everything, Toki had more than enough reason to suspect Magnus did not have much self control. A cold gust of wind came through the wall and stripped him of his heat again, but just as he considered burying himself in the blankets and trying to sleep again in order to avoid a conversation, the old man began speaking again.

“You really don’t need to be so cautious ’round us. I promise you we’re pretty decent people.”

Toki automatically glanced back at him but couldn’t gather the courage to speak after directly being ordered not to.

“You two don’t talk much, huh,” the man sighed. “Well, I know that guy you’re with don’t want me doin’ this, but it feels weird not at least sharin’ my name. I go by Murphy. You two are welcome to stay as long as you want. We all try to work together to keep our heads above water, so the more the merrier.” He scratched his scalp with trembling fingers as he waited for Toki to say something, but at no response he began again. “I hope the hole ain’t too bothersome. We’ve been meanin’ to figure out a way to hang something over it but nothin’ really works…”

Toki did his best not to reply as something overhead caught his attention. The wooden support beam across the ceiling had sunken a considerable distance from what Toki assumed was safe construction. He couldn’t be sure whether the hole and the sunken beam were remnants of an interrupted demolition rather than collapsing foundation, but Toki did not find either option to be exactly comforting. Noting how the section of the beam nearest to the door sagged the lowest, Toki tried to think of the bright side. Though most people could walk right under it without their hair so much as brushing along the bottom, Toki couldn’t help but wonder if he’d missed Magnus smacking his head against the beam when he first walked in.

Foundation issues and messiness aside, the place was still homely. The three had definitely been living together for a while. A mound of empty cigarette boxes and other trash rested in the corner nearest the woman and sleeping man’s makeshift bedding, while several empty sandwich bags littered the floor. Trinkets and folded clothes filled a reclaimed, broken plastic laundry basket. The two seemed to be staying together while the old man – Murphy – slept on the opposite side of the room, closer to the broken wall.

Wishing he could at least express his thanks, Toki looked back over at Murphy’s space. At some point he’d sat down on his bed. His side had considerably less trash but was disorderly all the same. Toki couldn’t blame them. They probably didn’t have very many visitors. Pulling the blankets up, about to lie back down, Toki froze as something shiny caught his eye. His heart skipped a beat as he realized exactly what it was.

“Y-you have-” The words spilled out before he could stop himself, much to Murphy’s delight.

“Oh, so you _can_ talk!” Murphy leant forward with a broad grin. “Need something?”

Toki clenched his teeth together but he couldn’t resist now that the dam had broken. It’d be fine if he just spoke correctly…

“You have a grandspa guitar?”

Nailed it.

“A what?” Murphy laughed and shook his head, puzzled at the wording.

Shit, nevermind.

“A… Uhm… A guitar what’s not electric?” Toki tried again, unable to recall the word he was looking for. Magnus would have killed him.

“Well, of course I do.” He leant over to the foot of his makeshift bed and pushed his backpack and dirty jacket aside, revealing a rather beaten up acoustic guitar. The metal of the tuning keys glinting off the fire’s light had been what caught his attention. Murphy laughed again as Toki’s face lit up at the sight. “Now that’s the smile I’m looking for! I should have pulled this thing out earlier! It’s called an _acoustic_ guitar, by the way. You know how to play, kid?”

“I- A little…” Toki fidgeted in his excitement as he tried to contain himself. He never thought he’d get contact high off an acoustic guitar.

“See, I used to, but my hands… They just don’t do what they could before. Here.” The instrument shook as he leant forward and handed it over.

Toki’s hands had never felt more at home as they automatically fell into place along the guitar’s neck and body. While it felt different than his flying V, he had long assumed he’d never touch another guitar again. Anything was more than welcome at this point. The pads of his fingers felt tender against the wires as he pressed them down, holding back the overwhelming desire to play from one of their songs. Instead he began with simple scales before letting his fingers play at random. He was already risking enough as it was. Even bringing up the topic of Dethklok would have been dangerous.

“The hell are you so modest for?” Murphy exclaimed, suddenly shaking his head. “You’re really quite something, kid!”

“It’s nothing…” Toki wanted to laugh in his face. It really was nothing. But Murphy took it as modesty again.

“I’m serious! How long have you been homeless, huh? You ever consider busking?”

“I- I really shouldn’t be talking right now. He’ll be back any minutes.” Toki offered the guitar up, pushing it back into Murphy’s hands. “I don’t want to make him mad…”

Murphy wasn’t satisfied. A somber look cast over his face as something about his two guests must have clicked.

“I don’t know how you two ended up out here together, but you’re your own person, y’know.” He tried to look Toki straight in the eyes as he spoke, but Toki couldn’t maintain eye contact in his uneasiness. “You can talk if you want to. If you do got a home out there somewhere, you can go home if you want to. And you can stay here with us if you want to. We could always use another helping hand.”

Toki fell silent, sliding down into the blankets and pulling them over his mouth. It was too much to think about for only being awake for less than an hour. He wasn’t sure if the invitation to stay was extended to Magnus…or if he even wanted Magnus to stay with him at all. If he could stay here with a small group for support and someone who could even locate his medicine, what would he need Magnus for anyway?

“Well, just consider it.”

There was the gentle strum of guitar strings, a sound Toki missed so dearly it hurt. Closing his eyes, for a moment he lost himself in nostalgia – a memory he hadn’t realized had been etched in his mind somewhere all this time, a memory where he’d been stuck in bed all day, and the only person who bothered to visit him, to antagonize him really, sat at his desk and would not leave. After bragging incessantly about his upcoming solos, lecturing Toki on the technicalities of every note he’d written for him to play next, and criticizing Toki’s performance at their last few concerts, he would fret away at his unplugged guitar without a word. Toki hadn’t exactly disliked it.

Murphy’s shaky, imperfect, slow playing was worlds apart but welcome all the same.

The music blended with the crackling of the fire and Toki listened until he began to drift off again. But just before sleep could pull him under, the door opened, stripping him of his warmth and tranquility.

Reeking of smoke, the woman passed by first as Toki pushed himself up, rejoining her still-sleeping friends’ side and tossing the carton of cigarettes into the basket of miscellaneous belongings. Half expecting to see Magnus carrying a box of his own, Toki was genuinely surprised to see him holding two bags of candy instead.

“He’s still sleeping?” Magnus asked in agitation, and it took Toki a moment to realize Magnus meant the young man in the corner of the room. Magnus, in fact, hardly acknowledged Toki as he dropped he bags in Toki’s lap and faced Murphy. “How long are you going to make us wait before you wake him up?”

Toki closed his eyes, fighting back a sigh. Already Magnus had destroyed the peaceful atmosphere with his severe lack of chill.

“Listen, asshole-” the woman shot back, but was quickly interrupted by Murphy raising a hand and shaking his head.

“He’ll wake up soon enough. He just needs his rest. He’s the only one of us with an honest to God job.”

Toki’s hands froze in the middle of opening the first candy bag as he watched Magnus’ face fall even further.

“A _job_.” His tone was incredulous.

“He’s actually the one keeping us comfortable out here. The catch is that he’s got a pretty nasty addiction. Parents kicked him out because of it, and so instead of spending his money on rent, he lives here and blows his cash on drugs.”

“That’s none of their fucking business,” the woman hissed, eyes narrowing now at Murphy.

“Look. I seriously don’t give a shit about his goddamn life story. I just want to know where I can find his dealer. And trust me, you don’t want us staying here any longer than we need to. So just wake him up.”

“He’s not very nice when we wake him up too early. I understand that this is important, but your friend there probably shouldn’t be walkin’ around in the cold just yet anyway. He said he’s got one more dose left, right? One more night here won’t hurt. It’s not even noon yet, so I promise, you’ll be out looking for the dealer before nightfall, alright?”

Magnus turned and finally looked down at Toki, examining his condition. He wished Murphy hadn’t put the attention back on him, but he took this as his chance to convince Magnus to stay.

“Where else can we go…? Spend the night in the snows again?”

Magnus couldn’t answer. He looked down at Toki, unblinking, as the anger in his eyes faded into neutrality. Just when his lips parted, about to speak, the woman let out an impressive string of vulgarities.

The young man was sitting up now, rubbing his sunken in eyes. His sallow cheeks were littered with red, spotty scarring that Toki hadn’t noticed while he was lying down. When he finally looked up at the two newcomers, he didn’t react in the slightest.

“Well, looks like Lazarus has risen after all,” Murphy chuckled, sitting back down with a sigh. “Sorry, Val.”

The woman, the ‘Val’ in question Toki assumed, sighed.

“Were we too loud?”

Empty, tired eyes continued to look on at nothing as Murphy’s question fell on deaf ears. But he only laughed again, turning back to Toki and Magnus. “Sorry, he’s a bit shy ‘round strangers.”

Unsettled by the addict’s unresponsiveness himself, Toki cast a glance up at Magnus whose expression had twisted slightly with apprehension and revulsion. They were both thinking the same thing: this zombie was supposed to give them critically important information? Toki guessed it was better than nothing but…

The woman muttered something to the addict, her voice too low for Toki to hear, and finally he nodded, his lips moving almost soundlessly.

“Consider yourselves lucky. He just needs a few minutes and he’ll tell you whatever you need to know.” She spoke as she reached for the tattered water bottle at her friend’s feet and uncapping it and placing it in his hands. “Then you can leave as soon as you want.”

Toki looked back down at his hands, lacing his fingers together anxiously. Now that Magnus had the option to leave he would certainly take it. He needed to resign himself to it now, and enjoy the warmth and company while he could.

“We’ll leave in the morning.”

It took a solid ten seconds to register and then Toki sat up straight, gawking up at Magnus in disbelief. Magnus retreated to the empty spot next to the door where he had presumably spent the previous night, rubbing a temple in defeat.

“Don’t tell me I wasted my money on those.”

Toki blinked until he remembered he still had the half-open candy in his lap. The two bags were the same, but one of his many favorites nonetheless. The thought of whether Magnus had remembered what he liked was quickly dashed from his mind as he noticed the bright red stickers advertising a two-for-one deal slapped hastily on the bags. He smiled faintly anyway.

“Thank you.” Even though he’d been told not to say it anymore, he couldn’t help feeling grateful for both the candy and the extra night.

“Just eat.”

Toki turned towards Murphy with a candy-filled grin, spirits reinvigorated. It wasn’t even the evening yet and if they could convince Magnus to stay one extra night, there was hope that they could possibly convince him to stay longer. Murphy winked as if congratulating him on his small success before lighting up, suddenly remembering something.

“Hey kid, you hungry for something a little more substantial?” He grabbed his bag and withdrew a handful of energy bars, nearly dropping them as his hands shook.

Despite Toki’s joyfulness at Magnus’ concession, the way his watchful glare pierced the back of his head set the mood for the rest of the evening.

With Magnus there to monitor the conversation, Toki decided to test his limits. The painkillers had finally kicked in and after eating and keeping warm around the fire, Toki felt far better than he expected. This newfound energy made him more talkative than he’d been since the funeral. Actually managing to hold a conversation about pointless, silly things with someone who always wore a smile was beyond cathartic. He hadn’t realized just how far he had detached from everything around him until now. Before, the world had felt so closed off to him. It’d felt as if the people he saw on TV, on the streets, in the library, everywhere, didn’t actually exist. Coming out of that basement was like entering a completely different world. Everything looked the same, sounded the same, seemed the same, but nothing was real. People saw straight through him like he was a ghost and though it had been firmly established that he were never to talk to anyone, indeed no one had ever talked to him to begin with. No one looked at him or acknowledged him. No one except Magnus.

But Murphy was very real and very much interested in talking to him. This alone was enough for Toki to finally feel grounded again. He’d almost forgotten that simply interacting with someone didn’t have to be a stressful ordeal.

But with Magnus still present, the stress wasn’t gone entirely. Even though he hadn’t said a single word since sitting, Toki knew Magnus was listening to everything closely, ready to jump in the moment Toki almost let something slip. Just his presence was somehow enough to dampen the mood. Out of the corner of his eye, Toki had caught him glowering and glaring in their direction on multiple occasions. The tacit hostility in the air only seemed to worsen the friendlier Murphy was towards him. He didn’t want to imagine how uncomfortable it must have been for Murphy who no doubt had accidentally made awkward eye contact with Magnus while attempting to focus on Toki. Even still, Toki didn’t want to stop.

Perhaps noticing Toki’s distraction, Murphy gave a knowing smirk and decided to change their current subject.

“You ever play the guitar?” Murphy’s tone of voice was just shy of another wink.

Toki acted just as excited as he had earlier as Murphy picked up the guitar again, trying not to tip anyone off about their earlier exchange. As the guitar met his hands once more, he could hear Magnus shifting behind him. The mere mention of the instrument seemed to trigger some kind of reaction in him as well, it seemed. He must have missed playing just as much as Toki had.

Grinning to himself, Toki relished the moment. This was his own, indirect way of getting back at Magnus. He knew that no matter how much he wanted to play something, Magnus’ pride would prevent him from even talking about it, let alone asking to see the guitar. Even if it was just a small, petty triumph, Toki wasn’t about to offer and hoped Murphy wouldn’t either. He wanted this moment for himself, but the moment was unfortunately cut short when the addict was ready to share his information and Magnus’ attention was stolen from him.

“I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but you’re incredible, kid.”

Toki plucked at the strings in the quietness that followed. Of course he’d heard it before and not just from Murphy earlier. His eyes followed Magnus as he headed back to his spot, finally satisfied with the information he was given.

“This is all I ever really wanted to do…”

Murphy gave a hearty chuckle.

“Yeah, thats what a lotta kids are saying these days. We’ve seen ‘em come through here often, thinkin’ they’ll make it big by living on the streets…” Murphy stood and dropped a small stack of newspapers into the fire. “Then they remember how nice it is at their momma’s house and go back to hot meals and warm beds.” He sat down next to Toki now, warming his hands by the fire. “You can’t go back, can you? You’re too young for this life. Your friend, though,” Murphy laughed, “he looks like he could fit right in with us. But you? The streets ain’t the place for someone like you.”

Toki frowned, offended.

“Someone like me? This isn’t my first time, you knows.”

“Kid, it ain’t smart to play with your health like this. Are you sure you can’t go back?”

“I don’t have a homes to go back to,” Toki said firmly. “I don’t have anythings.”

“Well…” Murphy sighed, backing down slightly. “I guess with an accent like that your home would be quite far away.”

Magnus heaved a defeated sigh behind him and Toki nearly started sweating bullets. Was his accent that obvious? Even with how hard he tried to hide it? Why hadn’t Magnus told him to shut up again?

“But you know what? We’ve been doing pretty good for ourselves, but I could always use another hand with things. I’ve got palsy that’s just getting worse, you see,” he held up his ever-trembling hands. “I guess it makes for good pity donations… Used to play guitar on the streets for people’s spare change. Funny enough, I get more now that my hands shake even though the music’s hardly music... But you could probably earn a hell of a lot more.”

Toki knew where he was going with this but he hadn’t had enough time to weigh his options.

“What I’m sayin’ is, it ain’t much really, but this could be your new home if you wanted.”

“Hey, what?” the woman called out from across the room, but Murphy only laughed.

“Those two already have each other but I don’t got no one. With the money you make in a month you’ll still have enough to afford your medicine I’m sure. And you’ll have the three of us to fall back on in case you don’t.”

“Out of the question.”

Toki had been expecting Magnus’ refusal. He wasn’t even going to hear it. And though he knew he would react this way, some sort of hope inside of Toki felt as if it had been crushed.

Seeing Toki’s cheerful demeanor disappear, Murphy stood and stepped forward.

“I don’t see why not. It’s better than sleeping outside for sure.”

“He knows exactly _why not_ ,” Magnus growled as he stood as well, staring down at Toki with a heated glare.

“But why stop at just information when you could have a roof over your head and access to medicine whenever you need it?”

“I don’t have to explain our situation to you.”

“Well I say, if he wants to stay, he should be able to. You don’t have to stay, but let him make his own decisions.”

Toki’s heart was pounding. Pushing Magnus was only going to spell disaster.

“He won’t stay if he knows what’s good for him and everyone in this dump.”

“Then let him say it himself,” Murphy shot back, tearing his eyes from Magnus and facing Toki. “Just so I know.”

And suddenly all eyes were on him and Toki’s blood instantly ran cold. Being put on the spot would have made anyone freeze up, but Magnus’ unbearable, livid stare petrified him. He felt like a piece of meat torn between two wolves.

“I-I d-” He stumbled over his own words, no longer sure what the correct answer was. Of course he wanted to stay, but stating such now that Magnus had been set off would have been unwise. Unfortunately, Magnus knew exactly what his hesitation meant.

“You think they can take better care of you, is that it? You seriously think they know what they’re fucking doing?”

“The kid was nearly dead when I found you sitting out there-”

“And you’ll die here!”

Toki didn’t want this. He hadn’t asked for Murphy to stand up for him. After he’d gone so long without Magnus yelling at him, he could hardly keep himself from shutting down.

“Do you think I haven’t been trying?!” Magnus stepped forward and brushed past Murphy like he wasn’t even there, closing in on Toki only for him recoil away. “Tell me! Huh?!”

There was a sudden horrendous searing pain in his palm and, jerking it away, Toki quickly realized he’d pressed his hand against the metal of the fire drum as he crawled backwards. But he didn’t have enough time to concern himself with it as Magnus drew nearer.

“You want to just die in this shithole?! After everything I’ve fucking done for you-”

Toki only had enough time to cover his mouth, eyes widening in futile panic.

_Don’t-_

The warning was lost before it could even make it to his lips as Murphy lifted a weak hand and touched Magnus’ shoulder.

“No need to get crazy-”

But Magnus was a livewire and the touch was all it took.

_“I’M NOT FUCKING CRAZY!”_

Before anyone knew what had happened, Murphy was on the floor. Stunned by the unexpected impact, he couldn’t push himself up from the ground, let alone speak. In seconds, the woman rushed to his side so quickly the flames threatened to extinguish as she ran past them. Toki watched in horror as she lifted the poor, disoriented old man up as he grimaced and gripped his reddening jaw. Removing his hand and looking down, he let out a pitiful moan at the glistening blood coating the hand that shook even harder than usual. The woman took his hands into hers before shooting a furious glare up at Magnus.

“This is how you thank someone who saved your _ungrateful fucking asses?!_ ”

Magnus drew back until his heel caught onto Toki’s blankets. Suddenly reminded of Toki’s presence, he looked back at him with a jolt, eyes full of some kind of unprecedented panic.

And then Magnus ran. He ducked under the broken beam and shot out into the cold dark without looking back.

Before the door had even closed, the woman left Murphy, who was now sitting up on his own, to follow after Magnus but stopped short of the doorway, throwing vulgar gestures and insults after him instead.

“Just stay here, kid…” Murphy managed, wiping at his bust lip with the back of his hand. But Toki still trying to believe what just happened.

“Oh god, I’m so sorries, oh-” Toki scrambled to his feet but the woman blocked him before he could offer Murphy his help.

“No. Fuck that,” the woman interrupted. “You got your info, right? Now just take your shit, go after him and don’t come back either.”

Toki swallowed hard. She was right. How could he stay now?

“No, Val,” Murphy shook his head as she helped him to his feet. “He needs to stay here.” He faced Toki, his eyes pleading. “Don’t you think it’ll be better for you?”

Toki slowly exhaled. He didn’t know what he thought.

“Kid… I saw your arms.”

Toki immediately gripped his forearm as he realized just how much Murphy knew – or at least thought he knew.

“Wh-when…?”

“When you reached up for the guitar, your sleeve lifted… Look, I don’t know anything about you… I don’t know if those scars were made by what you’re running from… Or who you’re running with. But I do know that he ain’t good for you. He really ain’t…”

Gritting his teeth, Toki knew what he had to do next, as much as he didn’t want to.

“I need to talks to him…” He had to at least try. His feet moved on their own and halfway out the door, he heard Murphy call out to him.

“Just be careful, alright? And come back, won’t you?”

“I will.” Toki gave a firm, determined nod and set out after Magnus.

Running hurt. The frigid air filling his lungs burned his throat and chest as he followed the fresh trail left in the snow. Turning the corner around a building, Toki finally found Magnus trudging through the snow, but he couldn’t catch his breath long enough to call out for him. Instead he persisted, trying desperately to navigate through the knee-deep snow, but his knees felt weak and his dizziness returned. Only when Toki was struck by a violent coughing fit did Magnus stop.

“Why can’t you leave me alone for ten goddamn minutes?” He finally turned around, still completely incensed.

“Why dids you have to do that?” Toki barely managed, breathless. “He’s just an old guys! You could have really hurts him! What the fuck is your problems?”

Magnus scanned him, unblinking and face unchanging.

“Where’s the fucking backpack?”

And in that moment Toki knew he fucked up.

"You wanna know my fucking problem? _You!_ ” he snapped, stepping forward. “You trust too much!"

"You don’t trusts at all!"

"Well look where trusting got you!"

It was a cold slap across the face. Reality always found a way to rear its ugly head. But Toki didn’t care. Everything Magnus had done hadn’t been because Toki had trusted. It was because Magnus had chosen to do something unforgiveable. This realization sparked within him a flame of defiance so strong Toki felt he had been stupid to ever have felt to blame at all. Toki swallowed and cleared his throat as he caught his breath. This was his chance to choose something for himself. He couldn’t let his fear win this time.

"I don’t need you.” His voice had grown louder than he’d realized. “I can stays here. I can lives with them and plays on the streets and makes five bucks a day and it’ll be enough! I’m fines with begging! After alls, it ams all I’ve been doing these past three months!"

Magnus was fuming now.

"Did you forget _why_ we can’t stay in one place?” he asked, every word slow and precise. “If you stay here for too long you’ll be _begging_ for your _life!_ You don’t think he’s given up on us, do you?"

Toki hesitated. He hadn’t forgotten so much as he’d had more immediate problems to concern himself with.

“It’s been a month! Not even a signs of the guy! And we ams so far away now, there’s no ways he’s followed us,” he rationalized, trying to convince himself just as much as Magnus. “We haven’t stopped moving until nows but if we stay, we can finally stop worrying about what we’re going to do tomorrows!”

“ _That ‘guy’_ is a fucking hitman, Toki!” Magnus nearly threw his arms up in exasperation. “You don’t know him like I do! He’d follow us to the ends of the fucking earth just to make our skins his fucking rugs! He told us to run because he wants to fuck with us, because he’s bored. He likes playing with his food and I promise you this game hasn’t even fucking started yet.”

“But-”

"No. Fuck this conversation and fuck you. I’m going to buy some fucking cigs." He turned, his words a snarl on his lips as he headed towards the street.

“Don’t waste money on that!”

Magnus stopped dead in his tracks. It had been a last ditch effort keep control but as always, it was about to backfire incredibly.

 _“Let me rephrase that.”_ He turned around with a venomous glare and a voice so stern Toki felt a chill run down his spine. “I’m going to buy some fucking cigs with _my_ fucking money, which I can waste on whatever I fucking want.”

Any desire to argue had finally been sapped away. The adrenaline had vanished, leaving Toki feeling like a stubborn fool, unwilling to admit Magnus had a very valid point.

“You wanna stay here, fine. That’s one less thing off my back. I did what I could to keep you alive, but this is your decision. I’m leaving. Decide by the time I come back for my shit.” He turned around and kept walking, footsteps crunching against the snow in the silent emptiness that followed.

Toki automatically began after him but his energy was gone. He could only watch as Magnus turned on to the main street and disappeared.

Somehow, after everything, he still hated watching Magnus leave.

With the heat of his anger fading, shame flooded him in its stead. He felt directly responsible for Magnus’ attack and whatever injuries Murphy had obtained. How could he ask to stay with them when he couldn’t even face them after something so awful? Giving a shaky sigh, he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head and slunk off to the side of the nearest building, taking a moment under the awning to escape the snow. Lightheaded and disoriented from overexertion, he roughly backed against the wall and inhaled sharply.

A sense of dysphoria hung in the air. The cold stung his nose and cheeks despite how feverish he still was and, even in Magnus’ absence, his surroundings felt too calm and pristine in comparison to how chaotic he still felt.

Now that he was alone and allowed to make whatever choice he wanted, Toki was even more torn than ever. Of course he wanted to stay with them. He wanted to be free of Magnus’ awful temper. He wanted to live a single day without having to worry about navigating a minefield with every word and every action. But he’d caused yet another innocent person to get hurt. Up until now the three had lived happily and peacefully together, supporting each other and accepting each other’s flaws. Magnus was the complete opposite of everything they were, and because of Toki he came in and disturbed their system. Even if Toki decided to stay, the woman, Val or whatever, would probably never come to like him and the drug addict would certainly spare his words to speak to him.

And to leave Magnus behind? Magnus _had_ done a lot for him. He didn’t have to let Toki accompany him and he definitely didn’t need to waste the little money he had, his only real lifeline, on Toki’s food and medicine. But hadn’t that just made him a burden? Like Magnus had said, if Toki stayed it would be one less thing he had to worry about. And yet, somehow when he imagined Magnus being more alone than usual…

Toki’s gaze drifted to the shins of his pants, observing idly how the snowflakes clung to the fabric. He hated this snow. Plodding through it reminded him of home, so much that things he’d tried to forget had begun to plague his dreams. And even though his childhood had blessed him with a high tolerance for the cold, now the smallest breeze chilled him to the core. He was always exhausted, his muscles and joints ached, and his chest and throat ached from his all-too-often coughing fits. His hands and feet were constantly numb but he could never brave asking for a pair of gloves or socks.

The more he thought about it, the less appealing the idea of staying on the streets with these people became to him, as wonderful as the promise of some friendly company and the chance to play a guitar was. He just wanted to be comfortable in his own body again, to get his blood sugar stabilized, to go work out and get back into shape, to eat something that wasn’t greasy and mechanically separated… And goddamn did he want to drink himself unconscious. He probably missed alcohol more than anything else at this point.

But neither Magnus nor Murphy could give these things to him. Only facing the band could give him a fraction of these wishes, but the only thing he wanted more than anything – be it alcohol, a stable life, a warm bed – was to never have to see them again. Not after making this far.

Realizing his teeth had begun to chatter, Toki pushed himself from the wall. Though he still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, the first step in deciding was finding out if he could still even stay. Murphy and the woman were probably locked in a heated debate about him right now. Steeling himself to a verdict of rejection, he set off, following the tracks leading back to the warehouse.

Trying to come up with a better series of apologies, Toki only looked up from his feet when the run-down building came into view. As the fire inside flickered, the three long shadows of its residents danced against the building the broken wall was facing. If even the addict was standing and talking, it must have been bad. Toki let out a heavy sigh as he approached. He really hoped Murphy was alright.

As he drew closer, he expected to hear anything from yelling to hushed muttering, but he could hear nothing beyond the crunch of snow under his own feet. Eyebrows furrowing, Toki reexamined their shadows – they weren’t moving.

Immediately, something felt wrong. He picked up his pace, chest growing tighter as his heart pounded against his ribs and he pushed himself against his better judgment once more.

Everything was fine. Everything was fine – Magnus’ warning invaded his thoughts – no, everything was fine.

Toki tore the door open.

And his heart stopped. He gasped with a sharp cry, clasping both hands over his mouth as he staggered back at the horrifying display hanging before him.

Three partially eviscerated bodies were strung up by the broken support beams overhead, circled around the fire. Though their bare backs were facing Toki, their evisceration was made obvious by the entrails hanging in front of them, coiling together on the ground. The fire flickered aggressively, casting the shadows of the bodies against the wall outside. The flames’ light reflected off the glistening blood pooling around the base of the oil drum and illuminated the several bloody ropes tied up over their heads – and Toki realized they were not ropes at all.

Unconsciousness looming if he looked a second longer, Toki spun on his heel and tore out, tripping over his own feet in his terror. Now tremendously vulnerable out in the open, he scanned the area for any trace of the Assassin as he forced himself back up and bolted into a sprint.  
  
He had to find Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will NOT take this long I promise.  
> edit: check out my tumblr every now and then for stupid extra stuff, like this scrapped section of this chapter from Magnus' point of view.  
> http://letsjustpretendthisneverhappened.tumblr.com/post/111535500435


	14. Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> boring. don't get excited.

_“Absolutely fucking stupid,"_ Magnus hissed under the visible cloud of breath as he trudged off to the convenience store he’d visited earlier in the day. Even as he entered and heat began to warm his frozen body, his anger hadn’t calmed in the slightest. Standing in line at the only open register, every little thing was beginning to try his patience, from the item that just wouldn’t scan at the front of the line to the baby screaming somewhere in the back of the building. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to last like this.

"I can help the next customer."

"Give me your cheapest cigarettes. I don’t care what kind." He slid a ten over the counter impatiently. It came straight out of the very little money he’d set aside for food.

"Can I see some ID?"

Hands aching for a throat to strangle, Magnus glared up at the cashier. Just a half-witted, acne ridden high schooler, the cashier stared stupidly at Magnus’ blind eye, mouth slightly agape.

“Do I _look_ under 18?” Magnus nearly snarled through his teeth, eyes riddled with bloodlust. Tonight couldn’t get any worse.

"It’s store policy, sir…"

As his agitation rose, the idea of a cigarette grew more and more appealing. The kid hardly looked aware of current events, let alone capable of remembering names... Magnus’ fingers touched the leather of the wallet in his pocket tentatively before returning his hand to his side. Flashing his name or ID around was a liability they didn’t need to deal with. The smaller trail they made, the less he had to worry about at night when he was trying to sleep. Magnus dragged the ten dollar bill back towards himself.

"Never mind." Silently fuming, he slunk out of the line and reentered the isles, glaring down at the crumpled bill in his hand. The direction of his anger had now shifted from Toki to everything in general, from the woman who got to waste _her_ money on cigarettes and flaunt them in Magnus’ face to the first goddamn cashier in the past four years to ask him for ID. Still, he couldn’t deny it had been a blessing in disguise. Toki was right, of course. It was an idiotic waste of money and throwing himself right back into square one wasn’t going to help them survive in the slightest. After all, there were far more important things they needed… Magnus looked up at the isle his feet had taken him to and let out a defeated sigh. He lifted the bottle of off-brand painkiller from the shelf, turning it over to ensure it was also a fever reducer. This would have to do for now.

As much as he wanted to just pocket it and leave, Magnus resigned himself to going through the line again. The night wasn’t exactly going well and the last thing he needed was getting caught over a few dollars. He’d just skip a few meals to make up for the cost the way he always did when he had to make a purchase.

As he began to contemplate just how he was going to bring up the fact that he’d bought medicine instead, Magnus suddenly realized the thought of Toki actually staying with the homeless hadn’t even occurred to him. Had he really told Toki he could stay? It had only been his anger talking – the idea of Toki staying with them was absolutely absurd. They needed to keep moving, and more importantly, Toki needed to be taken care of. No one could be trusted to do his job and Toki certainly couldn’t do it himself. And above all else, Magnus hadn’t sacrificed his resources, time, and peace of mind only for Toki to die because of some stupid romanticized, homeless future he thought he had with a bunch of dirty strangers.

Magnus rubbed a temple. Though he’d never meant to knock an old, crippled man to the ground, he had undeniably fucked up. Would Toki even face him again? After he’d gone so long with keeping his temper in check…

“Back again?” the cashier almost seemed to chime as Magnus finally stepped back up to the register.

Magnus opted out of replying as he placed the medicine on the counter. Noting the price as it was scanned, he pulled both his wallet and the ten dollar bill from his pocket in order to switch the ten for a five, but his hands froze as soon as he opened it – the window for his license was empty. Buying cigarettes hadn’t even been an option. He’d somehow forgotten that when splitting the money between what was to be used and what was to be saved for Toki’s insulin, he’d moved his license to the backpack, storing it with the insulin money. Initially, he’d preferred keeping everything important on his person at all times, but after being mugged, the fear of having his wallet stolen, and subsequently losing track of his ID, caused him more concern than necessary. Back then, the bag was usually safe in the hotel room with Toki, but it was clear now he shouldn’t have left important things in something that was so easy to lose.

“You know I’m gonna have to see some ID for this purchase, too.”

Magnus slowly looked up from his wallet, his expression empty save the absolute hatred and venom in his eyes. If he was only allotted two chances to stab people in his lifetime, what he would have given to use both chances on this piece of shit instead. His half-lidded, joyless glare must’ve finally sent the message that Magnus found absolutely nothing humorous in the joke. The smile was wiped from the cashier’s face instantly and without exchanging another word, the transaction was completed. Magnus was out the door as soon as the change touched his palm.

Trudging through the snow, following the path he came, Magnus slowly exhaled. While he’d welcomed the fresh air and solitude, he knew he had to get his things back as soon as possible and regretfully inform Toki that his decision no longer mattered. He knew Toki was bound to put up another fight. There was no way he _wouldn’t_ want to stay with them. He’d even been getting more comfortable with speaking up - enough to talk back, to make threats, to tell _him_ what to do… Magnus allowed himself a dark laugh. Toki standing up for himself and trying to fight back was something he’d wanted to see, but of course now that it was actually happening he felt nothing less than offended. Still, as long as Toki agreed to leave, he’d let it all be water under the bridge.

As he walked back to the warehouses, the trip began to feel much longer than it had before. His fingers rubbed against the ridges of the cap of the medicine bottle in his jacket pocket as his nervousness mounted. It was oddly quiet outside. He eyed his surroundings as he walked, keeping vigilant. The sun had long been gone, and although the city lights were bright with night life, the alleys and back roads he had to take were empty, dark, and dangerous enough to keep him on edge.

The angry honk of a distant car horn broke the silence, quickly followed by a startling metallic clang behind him. In midstride Magnus jerked his head back, scanning for the source of the clatter when the rapidly approaching sound of snow crunching underfoot echoed off the walls of the buildings. The echoes seemed to surround him. No matter which way he turned, he couldn’t locate the direction the sound was coming from. His hand shot to the knife at the small of his back as he surveyed the area behind him – there was nothing but an overturned garbage can under a fire escape and, to his relief, a black cat climbing its way up the stairs. But the footsteps continued to grow louder and louder and before he could turn again, he was suddenly met with a powerful blow from in front. Knocked clear on his ass and trapped under another body as his assailant fell on top of him, he instinctively brought the knife up to his chest, pointing upwards as he tried to get a clear look at his attacker’s face.

“Toki…?”

Completely drained of color, Toki’s face was whiter than the snow, a look of sheer terror carved into it like marble. Magnus pushed himself up, eyes narrowing in confusion, his anger flaring up again.

“What the fuck are you-”

Before he could even push Toki off, Toki jolted back in a frantic effort to pull himself away, crawling backwards as he attempted to speak through hard swallows and pants.

“You’re al- you’re alives-” There was relief in Toki’s tone before his voice broke and he was overcome with a coughing fit more violent than Magnus had seen since he’d gotten sick. But Toki didn’t waste any time with complaints or pained cries. As soon as he caught his breath and cleared his throat, he spoke again. "They’re deads, I think he killed them, they’re deads, they’re fucking dead-" He couldn’t continue before the tears finally caught up with him and he began speaking incoherently.

But Magnus hadn’t heard anything past the first two words. His blood ran cold. Toki wouldn’t lie about something like this, not with that genuine look of sheer terror. Magnus pushed himself to his feet, but his knees felt weak now. They were dead. He’d just seen them, not much more than half an hour ago. The answer _why_ was obvious, but Magnus didn’t want to believe it. The two had only been outside together for ten, fifteen minutes tops. If Toki hadn’t followed after Magnus to argue… A horrible, sinking feeling tore through him. Maybe it wasn’t what he thought – maybe the addict, being involved with drugs, had made enemies. Maybe it was just a case of homeless people being mindlessly beaten and murdered, as was all too common in large cities. But he knew he could come up with hypotheticals all night if it meant turning a blind eye to the fact that scared him the most.

He knew why they were dead. And it meant that the Assassin had been _watching_ them. Watching and waiting, always knowing where they were, what they were doing, who they were with… Magnus’ eyes fell back on Toki. He was still sitting in the snow, eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing. The backpack still wasn’t on him. Closing his eyes as well, Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose and swallowed hard. They couldn’t abandon it. It contained all they had.

“…We need to go back.”

Toki’s eyes widened as if he’d been struck by lightning. It was all he could do to stare at Magnus in utter disbelief. His head slowly began to shake as he realized Magnus was serious.

“Don’t makes me go backs there,” Toki pleaded. “You were rights, okays? You were rights! We needs to keep runnings! He coulds still be there…”

“We need to go back,” he repeated firmly. “You left the backpack there. It has the rest of the money in it… And it has my license.” Like he needed more damning evidence to his name. “You don’t need to look at them again. I just I need you to keep a look out while I…do what I need to do.”

“He’ll be there, won’ts he?”

A million dollar question. But Magnus’ only option was to reply with what he hoped was true.

“He’s playing with us, Toki. If he wanted to kill us, we’d be dead a hundred times over by now. Fuck, he wouldn’t even give a shit if it was in broad daylight, in front of hundreds of people.” Of course, being wrong about this would mean he’d be walking them both straight into their graves.

“And the police?”

“They probably won’t be found for a few days,” Magnus said, gaze dropping. “Somehow I doubt they’ll have many people looking for them…”

Finally standing, Toki brought a quivering hand to his mouth and turned his back to Magnus in a clumsy attempt to hide his obvious tears.

“…We don’t have a choice.”

Toki didn’t react.

“Listen,” Magnus pressed, “it’s all we have left. Your kit and needles are in there too.”

He didn’t exactly want to subject Toki to the undoubtedly horrifying scene a second time but leaving him alone was out of the question. It was impossible to tell who the Assassin would go after first; Magnus out of revenge, or Toki, who was indefinitely more valuable to him? Of course, going together would be practically gift wrapping themselves as a two for one deal.

“Fine,” Magnus conceded. “You go to the store and wait. It’s just up the street. Or do you need me to escort you?”

Toki cast a look over his shoulder. His eyes were red and wet, but Magnus couldn’t read his expression.

“Well? It’ll be the same as before. If I’m not back in half an hour, you’re on your own.”

Toki inhaled sharply, turning to face Magnus with all the resolve he could muster.

“I’ll goes with you, buts… can I stay outsides…?”

“Whatever, let’s just hurry.”

Toki gave a weak nod and quickly wiped at his wet cheeks with a sleeve, hardening his expression.

Magnus led the way with Toki at his heels, but despite the confidence he’d tried to display, with every step, his determination wavered. Retrieving the backpack couldn’t have been worth it. Like he’d said, it’d be at least a few days until someone found the bodies, but before then, they could catch a long distance running bus and just leave this city behind in plenty of time to avoid the cops. But at the cost of having three more murders pinned on his name? And what would they do without their savings or without Toki’s insulin kit? Hell, without the money there was no chance at getting insulin at all, and Toki’s body wouldn’t be able to endure much longer.

They arrived sooner than Magnus would have liked. Like ominous shadows cast in the strike of lightning, the silhouettes of bodies flickering against the wall of the neighboring building set Magnus’ hair on end. Every cell of his body was telling him to turn the fuck around and save himself while he still could, but his feet moved forward until he reached the door. This was such a stupid gamble, he told himself, eyeing the rusty door handle. Peace of mind and money for insulin was not worth being tortured and mutilated over. After all, after everything he’d done for him, Toki was so ready to leave Magnus on his own. But now that his great new buddies had been fucking slaughtered he’d come running back, crying to Magnus with nowhere to go, just like Magnus had warned him. If he’d just taken the backpack with him, he wouldn’t have even had to come back here at all. He could have told Toki to fuck off, thrown his kit and candy into the snow and finally been alone.

But here he was now, gripping the door’s handle, Toki standing behind him, both their hearts pounding so hard he was sure the Assassin could hear them. The plan was simple: he’d just grab the bag and run. He gave a sharp breath and slowly turned the door handle, pushing ever so slightly. With the steel door only partially cracked, he listened for any sort of movement. There was nothing but the sound of dripping, as if the damaged roof had finally sprung a leak.

“Remember what we did back at my apartment?” Magnus whispered, giving Toki a stern look. “It’s just like that again. Hold the door open and keep an eye out for _anything_.”

Toki nodded and quickly turned around as Magnus pushed the door open. The rusty squeal of the hinges hadn’t seemed half as loud before but the noise was the least of concerns. Before he could see anything, a smell so pungent he could taste the metal on his tongue filled his nose and mouth. His throat tightened as he tried not to gag. It was the sour, foul smell of viscera – an odor that the Assassin and the Revengencers perpetually reeked of. He’d grown used to it in his time with them but now it made his stomach churn. With one last push of the door, the horrific scene finally came into view. But it wasn’t a scene unfamiliar to Magnus.

Three bodies hung from the rafters, strung up by their own intestines. The way the skin of their abdomens had been peeled back like oranges, the way the contents of their abdomens spilled out in front of them in a splash of purples, reds, and pinks then wrapped up around their necks, two, three times for support… He’d not only seen this level of violence before but lived it. It was nothing new. He’d hardened himself to sight of the eviscerated human body by joining the Assassin as he tortured and quite literally pulled apart every Klokateer and Gear that had the misfortune of crossing his path. At the time, Magnus had convinced himself that he’d enjoyed it. A part of him probably had. He’d even at one point admired the Assassin for his nerve, his heartless and bloodthirsty nature, his ability to view another human as less than a pig to the slaughter. He’d thought he wanted to be like him and learn from him. But now Magnus knew he had never had it in him.

His gaze drifted down the old man’s figure. His eyes were vacant, partially rolled back, and his mouth was frozen in a grimace. His nose and upper lip were caked with wet and drying blood. Magnus could still feel the impact in his knuckles.

He had never even thanked them.

_“After everything I’ve fucking done for you-”_

His own words found their way back to him. He’d been standing right where Murphy was hanging when the words came out, and then punched an old man off his feet for simply touching him. He had no right to talk about gratefulness.

Breaking himself out of his reverie, Magnus stepped into the room, ducking like before to avoid the broken beam. He covered his mouth and nose, ordering his body not to be sick as he drew closer to the mutilated bodies. He began to move quickly but kept his eyes low, not wanting to meet another dead gaze.

The highest priority was recovering the backpack, which was more or less where it had been left, kicked slightly aside from Toki’s makeshift bed and now resting in the pool of blood between two bodies. Magnus slipped between the old man and the woman, kneeling just enough to reach the bag without touching anything else, but the pull was met with slight resistance. It felt heavier as he lifted it from the blood, almost as if it were stuck in syrup. The bottom of the bag was no doubt soaked through. He briefly considered only removing what he needed and making a run for it, but the idea of abandoning everything else while it was so close seemed idiotic. Once the blood dried, he figured, no one would be able to tell. The fabric was black after all. His eyes shot around the room again. No sign of the Assassin. Toki was quiet and calm at the door. Magnus felt himself grow bold. There was time to make the most of this. He couldn’t just leave useful things to rot with these bodies. Taking the backpack in hand, he rushed over to the old man’s bed, wiping it down quickly with a blanket before digging through his belongings. Nearly throwing the guitar to the side with the rest of the useless possessions, Magnus only managed to find a few dollars, coins, and still wrapped snack bars under the mess. He shoved them in the bag all the same, but his frustration was growing. They had to have _something_ more useful…

Magnus sat up straight as he remembered hearing the addict had somehow had a job. His knees burned as he ran and slid to the ground next to the addict’s bedside, tearing through the trash and dirty sheets, searching in desperation for anything salvageable. The woman had had enough money to burn on cigarettes – there had to be some cash lying around somewhere-

Magnus suddenly froze. He’d been mindlessly digging away until he lifted a garbage bag full of what felt like clothing, revealing a small metal box with a lock. About to throw it into the backpack now and ask questions later, he noticed the lock had been broken at some point. In morbid curiosity, he lifted the top, revealing a worn cigarette carton. Something loose rattled inside as he removed it. He cast a glance up at Toki as he opened it, but when his gaze fell back down, it felt as if the breath had been knocked clean out of him. A wad of cash was rolled up and pushed to the side to make room for a lighter, metal spoon, and a plastic bag of white powder stuffed haphazardly next to a rusty razor. Magnus stared, wide-eyed and lost in disbelief. Of course. The kid was an addict after all.

Fearing it would disappear if he handled it too roughly, Magnus pulled the powder out to gauge just how much he was looking at. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It had to be almost ten grams – ten fucking grams of heroin. His heart raced as he shot a look back at the door again. Toki still stood quietly against it, back still turned. Magnus shoved the baggie back into the carton and carefully placed it into the backpack before zipping it up. This was all they needed. Nothing else they could have had would be a fraction as useful.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Magnus muttered as he brushed past Toki, who wasted no time letting go of the door. Magnus wanted to run, but Toki struggled to keep up with his quickened pace.

“What nows?” Toki asked. “We gotta leaves the cities…”

“Not yet.”

“…What?”

“I found heroin in the kid’s stuff. This is our chance, Toki.”

“You were stealings from thems…?”

Magnus had to resist rolling his eyes. “They weren’t going to use it.”

“Fuck, Magnus…”

“It’s a good thing I did! I found money and fucking _heroin_. We can stay in a fucking hotel again tonight. We find that guy he told me about, and we can probably sell this shit and have enough money for your medicine and a ride out of this fucking city.”

“And if he gets us before we leaves?”

“Now you’re worried?” Looking down, Toki didn’t try his luck. Magnus just shook his head, trying to let the matter go. They didn’t have time to argue. “Let’s just get inside somewhere and fast.”

Everything in his mind told him they’d only survived tonight because the Assassin had wanted them to. He knew this was a part of the game. Worse things were coming. But somehow Magnus felt just fine.

Finally, change was coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah this is garbage but it needs to get out of my face. I'll probably beta it tomorrow. I feel awful that this short boring chapter took as long as it did.  
> Do not trust my lies when I make promises. 'next chapter won't take so long' my ASS.


	15. Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus talks a lot.

Fearing that any moment the screen would flash to breaking news reports of a mass homicide, Magnus stared blankly at the TV over the shoulder of the receptionist who slowly pecked away at her keyboard. His heart was still racing as he leant over the counter as she processed their request for a room. Like some inescapable cycle, standing at this front desk again after so long on the street was almost surreal. Though this was a motel they’d stayed at once before, Magnus didn’t have many other options. Very few places were willing to work with cash only and in their current state, Magnus would admit, they certainly didn’t look very reliable. He drummed his fingers on the countertop in an attempt to keep himself occupied. The lobby was eerily quiet, save for the woman’s typing. When finally prompted for the deposit, Magnus hastily handed her the money without a second thought. He would have done anything to be out of the cold and behind locked doors after a night like tonight and with the drugs in his backpack, they could finally afford. As she turned the key over to them, Magnus all but grabbed the key out of her hands before she could even wish them a nice stay.

Once the door to their room was shut and the deadbolt locked, the relief he felt, however superficial, was palpable. Dropping the backpack onto the small table, he surveyed the somewhat claustrophobic room and quickly rearranged his priorities. He needed a moment alone. Turning to Toki, he jerked his chin in the direction of the bathroom.

“Take your shower first.”

All too eager to take a long overdue shower, Toki slipped into the bathroom without a word, leaving Magnus alone with the backpack - just as he’d hoped.

He tore it open as soon as the bathroom door locked, then cautiously removed the flimsy cigarette carton. Lifting the top, he confirmed the heroin was still there, dashing his fear that it’d just been something he dreamt up. Shaking the carton lightly until all the paraphernalia had been dumped onto the table, Magnus found himself fixated on that perfect white. He hadn’t even counted the cash that had accompanied the heroin, but he didn’t care. Cash was nothing compared to this miracle. It was in full confidence that he could sell the drugs to a dealer he’d only just heard of that he’d dipped into the money for Toki’s medicine for the motel.

But now, pulling up the chair, he sat, unable to tear his eyes from their ticket to easier days. It really was beautiful - pure and clean and probably not cut with much filler. He turned the bag over, biting the dirty, worn nail of his thumb. Only when his knee nudged the leg of the table, shaking it suddenly, did he realize he’d been rapidly tapping his foot. All at once he was aware of the nervousness mounting in the back of his mind – nervousness at the acknowledgement of what he _really_ wanted. Blood pounding in his ears, he tightly, painfully gripped the inner elbow of his right arm, nails digging into his skin. He shot a look at the bathroom door as the weight of everything he’d just witnessed finally caught up to him.

Their faces, their bodies, their blood, their voices, their lives – Magnus fell to his elbows against the table and dug his hands into his hair while hunching over the cigarette carton and its treasures, staring down at the blinding powder. He tried to swallow the rising thoughts and images, he tried to focus on the emptiness of white and not remember that dark red that pooled beneath his feet, that had stained his knuckles and had trailed down an old man’s lips.

Don’t think about it, he ordered himself, don’t think about how they must have had to watch one another get torn open, how he must’ve made them scream though no one could hear them, how they must’ve wondered what they’d done to deserve this, how they’d been alive not even an hour ago. He couldn’t let himself think about the way he felt, or the way he _could_ feel. He couldn’t let himself think about the solution to his problems lying right there under his nose, or the needles in the backpack not four inches from his hands. He couldn’t let himself think about that long lost friend begging to be reacquainted, who promised relief and tranquility, who promised to erase their faces from his mind. Even if for a short time, he wouldn’t have to see them, he wouldn’t have to see Abigail’s body hanging with theirs, her head rolling off her shoulders and stopping just between his feet. He could forget the fear of finding Toki the same way. It could grant him a numbness that sleep couldn’t give.

Toki’s defense against fear and trauma was to shut off and sleep himself away from it all but Magnus had never had such luck. Sleeping without his mind churning away was impossible. Not with the Assassin out there. Not with fucking heroin literally under his fingertips. Not with Toki’s needles in his backpack. Not with a lighter in his pocket. The pad of his quivering index finger stroked the powder through plastic – it was right there. Closer than he’d been in years.

And the backpack was torn open.

He didn’t want to snort it – he wanted it _now_ , _hard_ , in his fucking _veins_ and no way else.

Toki’s last three syringes fell to the ground as Magnus fell to his knees, grabbing one and gripping it between his teeth before fishing out his lighter and dropping it next to the filthy, used spoon on the table. Wasting no time, his hands struggled in their haste to undo his belt, fighting the knife holster looped through at the small of his back until it fell to the floor with a clatter. Tearing his dirty jacket off and rolling up a sleeve of his shirt, Magnus pulled the rest of the belt from his waist and threw himself into the chair. His free hand worked to loosely loop the belt around his upper arm, waiting to tighten it until everything was ready.

The cigarettes he’d managed to convince himself out of buying – the addiction he’d managed to avoid rekindling – it had all been stripped from his mind. Nicotine was nothing compared to the rush he was about to have for the first time in years and he’d use so little they wouldn’t even miss it. It was all he needed. Just a little hit…

Picking up the lighter, his heart sank. It was nearly empty. Magnus flicked the starter rapidly, growing more and more eager with each failed spark, fingers trembling in anticipation and teeth gritting into the plastic of the syringe. If his mouth hadn’t been so dry, he was sure he would have been drooling now. His eyes darted about the empty room until locking on to the sink and mirror fortunately built outside of the bathroom. Something to sterilize his arm would have been nice and it would have been appreciated if the heroin’s previous owner had left him any sort of filter, but they weren’t at the top of his list. Water and fire were all that was required. He just needed to get the goddamn lighter fucking working… There was a sudden heat at his thumb and he felt his heart skip a beat at the warm glow of a small flame, but completely lost in his lust for a high, he hadn’t hear the bathroom door open.

“Magnus…?”

His whole body jerked with a start, and the lighter fell from his hand as he twisted around. Their eyes met in a flash and Magnus felt his blood turn to ice. He’d forgotten Toki entirely.

Toki stared at him in wide-eyed confusion and shock, as if the picture before him was still trying to process. And Magnus could only stare back, caught red-handed like a guilty dog digging through trash.

“What am-” The words died on his lips the moment his gaze fell to his syringe held between Magnus’ teeth, the others on the ground, a belt tied around Magnus’ arm. The rest of his words didn’t come. Water dripped from his hair to his shoulders as he stood motionless. Magnus’ hand shot up to take the syringe from his mouth and roll down his sleeve to hide his arm as quickly as possible, but it was all that he could manage. Completely at a loss, Toki stood with his mouth parted, waiting perhaps for Magnus to explain himself.

But Magnus couldn’t. When he finally broke their eye contact, he looked back down at what he’d been trying to do.

“I wasn’t-” He couldn’t lie his way out of this one. Not a single person would be stupid enough to believe it. “I-” But the weight of the judgment in Toki’s shocked gaze silenced any pitiful attempt to escape blame. It was judgment for yet another terrible decision, for not only being a coward but for constantly being the one to lessen their chances of survival after pinning it all on Toki. This was something even more detrimental to surviving than smoking again. Had he seriously been about to start fucking heroin again, even after the agony both mental and physical he’d been through to escape its grip on him?

“Shit,” he breathed, ripping the belt off his arm and standing abruptly, startling Toki in the process. “Toki, listen…” He trailed off, expecting Toki to say something, maybe something sarcastic or angry, but he just stood there in uncertainty. Magnus bit a knuckle again. His heart was still racing. He couldn’t let this break him. He couldn’t let what he’d seen as a blessing fuck them over more than they already were.

He needed to stop himself.

With trembling fingers, he snatched up the bag of heroin. Toki recoiled slightly as Magnus stepped forward and closed the distance between them, holding out the drugs.

“Keep it from me.”

Toki’s jaw tensed as he shook his head faintly, clearly scared.

“You have to, Toki,” Magnus nearly pleaded. “We’ll get rid of it tomorrow, but until then, I need you to keep it from me.”

Though his hands rose to apprehensively take the heroin from Magnus, Toki’s face seemed to pale in the fear of such responsibility. It had to be terrifying to suddenly be accountable for keeping Magnus, of all people, away from something he wanted. He knew a variety of unpleasant scenarios were flying through Toki’s head involving the lengths Magnus would go to, and Toki probably knew that if Magnus really wanted them, he was more or less powerless against him. Magnus had made such painfully clear in the past. He couldn’t blame Toki for being unwilling and afraid, but the moment the plastic bag left his hand, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his chest.

“Just…keep it close to you until I clean the backpack. Then you can put them in it and keep it next to you.” Glancing down at the backpack, his eyes met the items still on the table. Slowly exhaling, he moved to sit at the foot of the bed, hanging his head before running a hand from his temple into his hair. He hadn’t realized he’d been sweating until his fingers slid against his skin with ease. “I’ll take care of it in a minute. I just…need a moment.” His heart was still racing and his throat was tight.

Toki moved across the room, but Magnus couldn’t bring himself to look up from the carpet until Toki unexpectedly stood directly in front of him. Lifting his head, he was met with the sight of a paper cup filled with water being offered out. His glance only briefly caught Toki’s before he was reminded of his shame and returned it to the water, but, hesitantly, he accepted the cup. His hands still shook, rippling the water even as he tried to brace it in both. Though his mouth was bone dry, he leant forward and braced his forearms against his thighs, holding the cup between his knees in an attempt to still the embarrassing quivering.

And then the mattress shifted as Toki joined his side at the foot of the bed, although maintaining a distance between them. Despite sitting at his left, Magnus still tried to look at him through the corner of his eyes, but he couldn’t see Toki at all without turning his head. Instead, he resigned himself to resting his gaze on the water as he tried to finally calm himself. Even from where he sat he could smell the fragrance of hotel soap or shampoo emanating from Toki’s presence. As cheap and strong as it smelled, it was the first encounter with cleanliness they’d had in what felt like ages. He just needed to take his own shower now – but as relaxing as it could be, he feared being left alone with his thoughts. Instead, he chose to sit for a few moments longer in their shared quietness until Toki’s cautious voice disrupted the calm.

“Have you…done it befores…?”

Though he was slightly taken aback by the question, Magnus didn’t move. Oh. Right. Of course. Toki had never known… _anything_ about him. It had become obvious that Toki never figured out who Magnus was. He probably still didn’t know why he’d been dragged into this mess at all. Through every torturous day, whether it was locked in a basement or locked in a motel room, Toki had never been told why his friend had stabbed him, kidnapped him, abused him, hated him with such vitriol that he sought after the suffering of both Toki and the ones he’d once considered family. Knowing nothing, wandering blindly in the dark for so long – it was a torture in and of itself. And Magnus knew it needed to finally come to an end.

Letting a sigh escape through his nose, Magnus released with it all the desperate hunger for a high that he had remaining. It looked like they were in this together for the long run, whether they liked it or not. It was time to come clean.

Placing the cup on the ground and rolling his sleeves up as far past his elbow as they could go, Magnus held his arms out towards Toki, wrists facing upwards. The skin of both forearms was uneven with old pockmarks and scar tissue, fresh scabs and red irritated skin over the vein in his inner elbow – a testament to his nervous, habitual scratching - but his right arm was home to much more – ten times as many track mark scars almost looked like freckles at first glance, but the discolored skin and veins stood out the most in contrast to the thick white scar tissue cutting in jagged lines from his inner elbow out to his forearm and up his bicep.

Magnus had turned just enough to monitor Toki’s face as he gawked down at the disfigured sight before him.

“That probably answers your question. And maybe even a couple more.” Back in hotter days, Toki had given him no end of irritation about his unwillingness to wear short sleeves.

“I’m sorries,” Toki nearly stammered. “I shouldn’ts have askeds…”

“No, it’s fine,” Magnus shook his head. “I think it’s…part of a lot of things you should know before we’re inevitably murdered.” As Toki struggled with his own reply, Magnus decided to push further. “Did you ever figure it out? That I was part of Dethklok once?”

“You…?”

“You really never figured it out?” Magnus sighed, dropping his gaze back to the cup in his now still hands. “I was their first rhythm guitarist, before everything went to shit.” At the following silence, Magnus peered back up, annoyed at Toki’s unsatisfying lack of reaction. “Did they never mention me…?”

“Your name seemed familiars but…”

Talk about a low blow.

“I started the band, you know.” He paused before rolling his eyes. “Well, me and Nathan.”

“You were friends…?”

Magnus couldn’t help but laugh at the question.

“Hardly. We were always butting heads about one thing or another.”

“Ams that why you lefts them?” Toki couldn’t have sounded any more innocent, but the question stung all the same.

“I didn’t leave them. They kicked me out.” In all the years since, he had never actually spoken about it with anyone, but as hard as it was, he could admit it all now. “It was over the stupidest shit, too. I wanted it my way, then got pissed at him for defending Pickles. Next thing I know I’ve got my knife buried in Nathan’s shoulder. Goes without saying he kicked my ass.” He touched his left eye lightly, remembering the way it used to ache and strain desperately for light. “That’s how I lost my vision in this eye. Then, I was out of the band.”

“And then you wanteds revenge…?”

“All I managed was fucking up some of their equipment before I decided to run and hide from everything behind a high. Y’know, Pickles always helped us do all kinds of shit, but surprisingly we were all smart enough to keep each other in check. We had more important things to focus on back then. Music was our life. But I didn’t have it anymore. And when I found myself with nothing but my hatred for them, nothing was more important than not having to feel anything anymore. I know that’s something you’re familiar with,” Magnus said, shooting Toki an accusatory leer.

“I means…” Toki’s face tinted slightly as he pursed his lips and scratched his head sheepishly. “Alcohol ams not _that_ bad…” Magnus could feel Toki’s eyes weighing heavily on his arms. He lifted them up again.

“When I started using- _abusing_ heroin, all I could do was shoot up while cursing Dethklok with every breath I had. For five fucking years. I blamed them for everything but most of the time I couldn’t even remember what I was blaming them for. There was this time,” Magnus closed his eyes and shook his head as he recalled the memory, “when I woke up on the corner of some street as an ambulance drove off. The junkies I was shooting up with called it for me because I’d overdosed real bad. That happened two more times, and those are just the times I can remember, before they gave up on me. It wasn’t because I kept ODing – we got our hands on naloxone like it was candy – but we shared needles, so when my arm started turning fucking black and shit wasn’t healing, I started using the other one while pretending like my right arm wasn’t about to rot off the goddamn bone.” He ran his finger over the raised white scars with a look of bitter contempt. He could barely feel anything through the thick, damaged skin.

“But it got betters, didn’t it?” Toki’s face was plastered with horror. His imagination had always been rather vivid.

“It just kept getting worse,” Magnus replied, “until I apparently ODed again, but that time I woke up in the ER. My guys were done with me and finally passed me off to the actual hospital.” Too far gone even for a bunch of addicts. Magnus tried not to scoff at the thought before continuing. “Then there were doctors telling me I’m gonna lose my arm and that I’m extremely lucky to even be alive with how bad the untreated infection was.”

“But it was okays?”

“It’s probably the only time I can say I got lucky,” Magnus said, clenching his right fist and letting the tendons in his forearm pull the scar tissue taut over the main injection site. “But then it finally hit me. I sat there in this fucking hospital bed, humiliated, wanting to just die and be done with it, and then it all clicked. I still hadn’t gotten revenge. They did this to me. They took the last five years from me, they already took my eye and now they were going to take my arm from me too. They’d kick me out of my own band, then rob me of my ability to play on top of it all. That’s how I saw it back then.” Now, of course, he knew he’d been the only one to blame for all of it.

“So you finallies stopped?”

“It wasn’t that easy. And I knew it wasn’t going to be. But if I wasn’t clean, I couldn’t get revenge. That’s the only thing I could think about. I put my own ass in rehab, and after the two shittiest, most painful years of my life, I managed to wake up without dope on my mind. Next thing I needed was to get my life back in order. All I had was music and revenge and while there are a lot of starving musicians out there, finding work with music was easier than finding a way to fuck with some of the world’s most powerful assholes locked away in a fucking castle. And that’s when the Assassin found me. I guess he knew I was desperate and since I’d known them, I was more valuable to use. But when we started working together, things were finally starting to really look up. I was so caught up in having control of my life again, I-”

_-caused innocent people to suffer, to be tortured and murdered –_

“-made a lot of bad decisions.”

“And you almosts just made another ones.”

“…Yeah.”

“But why woulds you wants to go back to that…?”

“Y’know, I was only smoking so much to put my addictions elsewhere. So when I had to quit… You know. You can just _feel_ it in every cell in your body. Scratching your arm fucking raw, nagging in the back of your goddamn mind that you need something more than just nicotine… Can you imagine how lucky this is? To just have a ton of fucking heroin just dropped into your lap?”

“It’s more unluckies if you ask me…” Toki’s gaze fell to his side opposite of Magnus, and Magnus’ eyes followed. The heroin was resting under his left hand innocuously.

“Toki, you’re gonna guard that shit with your life because it _is_ your life. It’s gotta be close to a whole fucking grand.”

Toki looked back up, eyebrows furrowing in a thinly veiled confusion. Magnus held back a groan.

“That’s about a thousand dollars, Toki.”

Toki’s eyes lit up and jaw dropped just slightly as understanding dawned on him.

“And it’s gonna pay for your medicine and our ticket out of here. We find this guy tomorrow and wash our hands clean of all this mess and get the fuck out of here before we end up like-” He cut himself off there. A solemn look crossed Toki’s face. Leaving the cup of water on the ground and rising from the bed with a grunt, Magnus gathered the last of his nerve. He was done with talking. “Just remember, you lose or ruin that shit, I’ll kill you myself.”

Toki nodded determinedly but the fear of what he’d just learned on top of his prior responsibility shone through.

“I’m going to see what I can do about getting the blood out of this backpack and then take my shower…” He dumped the rest of the bag’s contents on to the desk, eying the energy bars he’d liberated from the homeless man’s things before his eyes shot to the vial of insulin – that still had one more dose left.

“Did you eat that candy and not take your shot?”

“I…”

“I swear to fucking god, Toki…”

“I forgot-”

“No wonder you can barely stand. How much did you run?”

“Just a littles…”

Shaking his head, Magnus scooped up the vial and grabbed one of the syringes he hadn’t touched, dropping them both into Toki’s lap as he headed to the bathroom.

“ _‘I’ll be fine living on the street’_ my _ass_. You wouldn’t survive a day without me.”

“A lot was happenings, you know!”

“Well you better start praying you didn’t wait too long.” Without waiting for any kind of retort, he shut the bathroom door behind him.

The doorknob locked with a click and all was finally silent.

His inner arm still itched, but less so than his scalp. He needed a shower more than he needed a high. He let out a dark laugh. No, he needed a hole in his head more than he needed a high. Slowly breathing out, he drew the water, and just as he feared, the thoughts he wanted to avoid began surfacing in his solitude, all left raw after purging so much about the worst chapter of his already shitty life.

But thinking about those years, he recalled how amazing it felt to be completely detached from the world, unfeeling towards everything no matter how awful. Back then, he could forget about the band, the chronic pain in his eye, his rotting arm, his heart, everything, with nothing more than a little dope. With heroin he could escape the enduring pain the band had caused him. It was a pain worse than being punched, and worse than being kicked out of the band by far.

It was the torture of just being with them.

He had never been able to be himself around them, as much as he’d pretended and acted to be just like them. Every homophobic slur they loosed was an arrow into his heart until he began to feel subhuman for something he couldn’t change. He’d even begun to lose himself as he shut off to their insensitivity and joined them in their aggressive homophobia. He remembered how Skwisgaar had played with him and threw him aside, how Nathan had never really there for him in his times of need, how Pickles taught him to escape facing his problems by being high all the time, how he’d always compared himself to Murderface to feel better about himself, because at least he wasn’t as ugly and unwanted as he was – until Magnus was kicked out of course, and Murderface, of all people got to stay. And he would never forget how Offdensen looked straight through him like some cold, soulless machine, but actually opened up around Nathan and Pickles, showing them more of himself than Magnus had ever had the luck to see.

While he was with the band, his ego, pride, and sanity had been torn apart by more conflict than simple musical opinion. But that was just how the band was, he’d convinced himself, and there was nothing that would change them. They were just tactless, insufferable, selfish assholes, and Magnus had been no different at the end of the day. The praise and approval and roaring cheers from the audience at shows and the way the music he’d helped create made him feel – that was what made it all worth it. He’d pretend like he was straight, he’d pretend like he wasn’t lonely, he’d pretend like he enjoyed being so fucked out of his mind he couldn’t remember his name, all if that single, gratifying payoff was there. It gave him purpose, but he quickly came to realize that that purpose was fleeting.

Always in the back of his mind a suspicion lingered, but only now could he acknowledge it: he’d never once belonged with them. The place he’d assumed he’d had with them had never been his to own. There had always been something telling him that they were different than him, and for a long time he’d been so sure that _he_ was the only one meant for greatness.

Oh, how wrong he’d been.

Sleeves still rolled up, Magnus lowered himself to his knees next to the faucet, leaning over the tub and running the cold water over the base of the backpack. Before even wringing it out, red and brown dyed the water and flushed down the drain.

There was no point in concerning himself with the past. They were going to die anyway, once the Assassin grew bored with this game. Even if the police caught and arrested him for the murder in his apartment, he most likely wouldn’t even make it to the holding cell.

But maybe… At least until then...

His eyes fell to the scars of the arm he almost lost.

Maybe he could still find something to hold on to.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> too lazy to beta. hope you enjoyed the exposé though.


	16. Striking a Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus... strikes a deal

The neighborhood was steeped in cliché. Toki followed close after Magnus as they treaded carefully on the icy sidewalk. The street was desolate and completely forsaken. Most of the rotting townhouses lining the streets were boarded up with graffiti-covered plywood, and those without boards sported metal bars over their windows and doors. Though Toki felt exposed, the night sky was clear and bright with moonlight for the first time in what felt like ages. He tried not to think about where they were going and the ridiculous task they were about to attempt, even as they slipped between the chainlink fence of a house and the neighboring park.

Magnus led him down a very narrow path of well-trampled dead grass and underbrush, whispering warnings of low hanging, snapped branches that threatened to gouge out the eyes of the unwary. Just as claustrophia began to loom, the path finally opened up to a large tear in the fence, leading into what seemed to be a small backyard. What remained of the grass had been long left unattended, some areas once growing slovenly before winter set in peaking out over mounds of snow, others trampled to dirt and gravel while the yard itself had been reduced to a litter of dirty icy slush, trash, needles, empty syringes, and broken glass bottles. Toki’s heart skipped a beat as his eyes trailed up from the litter to the tall, burly man who’d been standing at the back door, eying the two as they approached. He stepped forward slightly, arms crossed, and Toki couldn’t tell if he had just been on guard or if he had been waiting for them.

“Get lost.” His voice was rough and sudden. If Toki could have had his way, he would have obeyed immediately and without question. But Magnus continued forward anyway.

“We need to talk to ‘Exec.’”

“Then you came to the wrong place. Now fuck off.”

Before Magnus could open his mouth to fire back a retort, a sudden voice cut through the air from above.

“JUST FUCKIN’ LET THEM IN! THE PLACE IS A MADHOUSE, TWO MORE WON’T KILL YOU!”

Toki and Magnus both snapped their heads up only to see a figure disappear past the half boarded up second floor window. Their attention dropped back down to the guard, who only sneered and grumbled in their direction as he stepped aside. He offered one last word - _“upstairs”_ \- as the two continued into the house with added caution.

The first thing that hit them was the smell. The house, quite literally a drug den, absolutely reeked of rot and weed. Save for the people milling about and smoking, the ground floor mirrored the state of the backyard, absolutely filthy and covered in trash from pizza boxes and beer bottles to stray paraphernalia. Rusty razorblades and bits of foil glinted under the dim light while the corners of the room were filled with large sports drink bottles – stuffed to their capacity with used needles. They were ultimately of little use, however, as the floors had their fair share of bright orange needle caps and the empty, used syringes they once belonged to.

“Watch your step,” Magnus muttered under his breath as he stepped over an uncapped needle, almost impossible to see amidst the soiled carpet. Completely out of their minds, the junkies hardly noticed, or at least acknowledged, their presence at all. The air was thick with smoke that only grew thicker the deeper into the house they adventured, causing Toki to clear his throat as quietly as possible in order to avoid triggering a coughing fit. Spotting the stairs in the foyer, the two strafed through a narrow hallway, carefully stepping between the legs of the people that claimed the small space as their own. As they neared the stairs, voices louder than the rest drew their attention off to the side towards a doorless room. Formerly a small personal office, it now housed a handful of people, ripping lines off a metal table while a man stood to the side coaching them. Toki’s eyes fell from the men to the source of soft humming – a woman lay languidly over a couch, its fabric just as torn and stained as her dress. She was smiling up at nothing, at the peeling plaster of the ceiling, perhaps, but Toki found himself staring until he realized why. Her green eyes met his and Toki’s heart sank. She looked liked Abigail. He was frozen to the spot as she smiled at him, humming something that could hardly pass as a melody, before Magnus urged him to keep moving.

“Come on.” Magnus waited until Toki joined him at the foot of the stairs before inhaling slowly and collecting himself. “It’s just like usual. Don’t draw attention to yourself and just let me do the talking. I can take it now.” He held out a hand and Toki returned the heroin to him, his mind elsewhere. “If it goes south, remember the front door is boarded up, so you need to run out the way we came, got it?”

“Yeah…”

Magnus began up the stairs and Toki followed without looking back at the woman. The moment they reached the landing they were met with a bark of commands that were all but incomprehensible, causing Toki, who was already on edge, to nearly jump out of his skin. Magnus stopped dead in his tracks as two guards stepped forward on either side of the man standing by the shattered window. Its blinds were brown and broken and the window was nailed over with plywood, but the man still looked out over the topmost board, out into the yard and the wooded park behind it. His back was turned to them, but there wasn’t much to see. The upper floor was a single, small room with nothing but a metal desk centered a few feet from the window.

He held a cellphone to his ear, and though his body language read ‘casual conversation,’ the venom in his words spoke otherwise.

_“When I call back, it better be fucking done.”_

He ended the call with a particularly dramatic sigh before slowly turning on a heel, his head cocked at a lazy angle as his gaze finally met with his newcomers’.

“‘Exec’ right?”

“The one and only. Now let’s get this over with.” He motioned outward to the chair opposite of his table, offering for one of them to sit as he seated himself in his own chair. “But first, I have some questions. I’m sure you’ll understand.”

Toki followed Magnus to the chair, stopping just behind him as he sat. He felt awkward standing but there was nothing else he could do. Instead of risking eye contact with the guards or the drug dealer himself, Toki’s eyes fell to the table. Pushed off to the side were two types of scales, ripped plastic wrap, razors, and an assortment of other tools of the trade. Everything was quite worn, indicating that the entire operation had been going on for quite some time.

“So, tell me,” the man called Exec began. “Why am I sitting here with you right now?”

“Because I need something I was told you can get me.” Magnus’ voice was calm and steady.

“And who told you that?”

“A loyal customer. I didn’t get a name.”

“Well, it seems said _loyal customer_ failed to inform you that I have dealers for this. You must’ve have seemed quite desperate to be told to come directly to me. Only the most desperate ones do.”

“I guess that’s what you could call us then.”

The man’s eyes flashed up from Magnus and landed on Toki. His blood ran cold instantly, making seconds feel like hours as the dealer looked _into_ him rather than at him. Suddenly, the thought crossed his mind that his identity would put them at risk now more than ever. And then the dealer pulled his piercing gaze away and focused again on Magnus.

“Alright then,” he mused, raising his eyebrows and leaning back in his seat. “I'm listening. Show me how desperate you are.”

Toki swallowed. Perhaps, mere minutes after arriving, they’d already gotten themselves in too deep.

“I’m not looking for hard drugs. My reference told me you have connections to a pharmacy.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m not really in the mood for guessing games. I’m gonna have to ask you to either lay it all out or get off my dick.”

“I need insulin.”

The man’s face went still, his eyes staring holes into Magnus'.

“A little unorthodox but,” he finally spoke, raising his eyebrows again, “it’s simple shit. But is that it? Just insulin? You came _directly to me_ for your grandma's meds? You don't want codeine? Vicodin? Fentanyl?”

“Just insulin.”

Toki had to hand it to him. Magnus was handling the situation fairly well… So far. But it was still up in the air whether the dealer would find them worth the effort, especially considering they had no money.

“Oh come on, you look like one mean son of a bitch. If not you, you’ve at least got friends who taste from time to time, right? Maybe you're looking for Suboxone or Methadone? I mean, my guys are capable enough, but at least make this conversation worth my goddamn time, man.”

“The only other thing we could need is a glucose meter.”

Toki blinked, taken entirely by surprise at how much more Magnus had been thinking about his situation than he’d assumed, but the dealer suddenly erupted into laughter, no doubt finding it more hilarious than thoughtful. Toki wouldn’t have been surprised if the whole house could hear it – it sounded more like a hyena than anything.

“Just go fucking steal one. I'm not doing your grocery shopping for you.” He sat forward and sighed his laughter out through a smile. His demeanor had shifted since they’d first arrived. “But fine. Insulin it is. As long as you’ve got the cash I’ll get you enough shit you could finally put granny out of her misery. Let’s see it.”

“How much will it cost?” Magnus evaded, perhaps trying to slowly lead up to their untraditional method of payment. Toki dreaded the moment of the reveal.

 _“Well,”_ Exec replied, clearly annoyed that he wasn’t seeing green yet, “there’s going to be an upcharge, and for orders on things we don’t just happen to have lying around, I humbly require ninety percent up front, but you’ll have your shit by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.”

 _“Ninety percent?”_ Magnus repeated, incredulous. Toki felt his stomach drop and immediately began to internally beg Magnus not to jeopardize the whole deal…but Magnus had never been one to take shit lying down. “And I’m supposed to just _trust_ you?”

“I’m supposed to trust _you_?” Exec fired back, his voice calm but coated in that same venom Toki remembered from the phone call earlier. Magnus must have realized he’d struck a raw nerve, Toki noticed, as he shrank back slightly. “My team and I - we put our asses on the line for you ungrateful fucks who come in here and start making demands, then flake out and disappear after we get it. We risk our own lives to get you what you need, when you need it, but it’s going to take time, and it’s going to take money. Unlike certain _other_ operations, we care about quality, we treat our clients well, and we don’t like to waste. Now, you can either play by our rules, or you can get the fuck out. One or the other.”

Toki kept his eyes glued to the floor, paralyzed. How could Magnus possibly save their case now? They didn’t even have enough money to stay in the motel another night, let alone purchase upcharged black market prescription drugs, and something was telling him this man wasn’t going to be thrilled to hear it. He was probably up to his neck in heroin – what use would he have for more?

“Fine.”

Toki steeled himself as Magnus reached into his jacket pocket. They’d come so far but it was all they had. If Magnus didn’t play his cards right, they could even end up walking away with neither insulin nor heroin. He didn’t doubt for even a minute that the two guards watching them, even Exec himself, were armed to the teeth somewhere on their person.

“An unorthodox payment for an unorthodox request.” Magnus held the baggie up, flicking it so the powder would settle and nodded down at the scale that had been pushed off to the side. “Almost ten grams of dope. Feel free to weigh it, smell it, taste it, even. It’s undeniable. And it’s some of the purest looking shit I’ve seen.”

Toki reluctantly dragged his gaze from the floor to the heroin and then to the dealer, trying to get a read on just how well he was taking it.

“Let me get this straight…” Exec managed through a thin, crooked smile. He looked like he was about to absolutely lose it. “You want to sell _drugs_ to a _drug dealer.”_

“You wanted desperate. I’m giving you desperate.” Magnus waited for a reply, but when Exec said nothing, he continued. “It sounds like you’re already dealing with competition. I was going to sell it way cheaper than your shit to someone out there, one of your own customers, just to get it out of my hands. But I don’t gain anything from stealing customers from you. I need the cash. And I need insulin. So this is your chance to make a quick buck off of me. It’s nothing – it’s just under ten grams. You can sell it in a heartbeat. You probably sell around one-fifty to two hundred, right? One-twenty a gram and it’s yours to flip to your next ungrateful fuck.”

Exec’s smile cracked into a wide grin, on the edge of absolute hysterics. Toki thought it was already over until he finally spoke.

“Thirty on the gram isn’t going to be worth the effort. Eighty-five. And only if it’s real.”

Toki couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He was actually offering to buy it? Could it really be that easy? If it had been him making the deal, he would have taken eight-five without a second thought, but Magnus shook his head.

“One-ten. I’m desperate, not stupid.”

“Look at where you’re sitting. What you’re doing. If anything, you’re both. Ninety.”

“How about we weigh this and figure out some hard numbers?”

“Be my guest.” The dealer pushed the scale slightly towards Magnus and turned it on, his eyes watching like a hawk as they waited for the scale to default before Magnus carefully placed the bag on the metal plate. The numbers jumped and finally settled: 8.941. The dealer repeated the number aloud as Magnus quickly returned the bag to the safety of his hands. The number was a little lower than Toki had hoped, but he’d be the first to acknowledge that it could have been worse.

“I’m sure there’s a number we can agree on,” Magnus pushed. They were so close.

“How about I give you eight-fifty for the whole thing, even the plastic? And I’ll give you a quote on the insulin now. Three hundred a vial.”

“I never paid over one-eighty for a vial.”

“There’s a first time for everything. Incidentally, there’s also a last time for everything. Honestly, it’s a steal,” Exec added, shrugging with one hand, the other scratching the side of his face nonchalantly. “You get to live to see another week and you still have five-fifty you can do with as you please. Take your nephew over there to a strip club, get a fucking haircut, the possibilities are almost endless.”

As Magnus fell silent while he weighed his very limited options, the fierce itch of a cough suddenly crept up on Toki. In an attempt to stifle it, he clasped a hand over his mouth, swallowing hard and trying to breathe it out, but the itch remained. In an attempt to distract himself from the urge, Toki looked back up at Magnus only to find the dealer’s hard stare locked on to him again. He froze in fear, their eyes locked for the first time until Magnus finally spoke.

“Eight-seventy-five and we’re done.”

The dealer’s eyes flashed back to Magnus.

“Let me taste it.”

Magnus complied, quietly opening the baggie and offering it forward. He kept his grip on it firm as the dealer leant in, licking his index finger before sticking it in the bag and procuring a small amount of white. He kept eye contact with Magnus as he placed his finger back in his mouth, wiping the powder onto his tongue before pressing the remaining residue against his gums. His lips sealed as his tongue moved around inside his mouth – and finally his expression softened. His head tiled slightly and his smile returned.

“Fine,” he finally conceded. “Eight-seventy-five.”

“It’s strong, isn’t it?” Magnus smiled, and Toki began to wonder if – and if so, when – he’d tasted it himself.

“So,” Exec continued, ignoring Magnus’ gloating victory, “that leaves you with…” His hand disappeared under the table and Toki noticed Magnus tense even before the metallic click and the rolling sound of a drawer being pulled out. “Easy, easy…” Exec coaxed with a smile as he produced a small deposit pouch, clearly liberated from a bank. Toki blinked and suddenly cash was resting flat under his hand against the table, but Exec’s eyes were still boring holes into Magnus’. “…Five-seventy-five”

_“You said ninety up front.”_

“…Of course. Six-oh-five, then.” He slow transferred another thirty dollars into their stack. “I can trust you’ll still have this last ten percent tomorrow?”

“I’ll have it,” Magnus nearly snarled.

“Wonderful. Now let’s get this over with. I hate being in this fucking dump.”

Magnus offered out the heroin and the two finally, cautiously, completed the first part of the exchange. Once the money and drugs had been locked away, Exec rose to his feet.

“All settled then,” he nodded with a smirk, as if tipping a hat. “I’ll have it all ready by noon tomorrow. Just come right back here and we’ll finish up.”

Magnus stood, looking at Toki only briefly before he began his way towards the stairs.

“Don’t go too crazy at the club, kiddo…” Exec’s voice trailed after him even after he’d begun down the stairs. “Wouldn’t want you passing out.”

The two were out on the street as quickly as possible. The moment Toki took in the cold air, the coughing he’d been holding back finally caught up with him, but the two did not stop moving. As soon as they were a decent distance from the house and Toki’s fit had died down, Magnus suddenly stopped. With a sharp breath, he suddenly lost his composure, exhaling so heavily one could have thought he’d been holding it in during the entire exchange. He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes, trying to regulate his breathing. Before Toki could ask him anything, his eyes were open again.

“We should head back to the motel,” he breathed. “We can afford one more night now. Let’s just get there in one piece.”

Opting not to comment on Magnus’ little moment, Toki simply nodded and followed after him once again. The trek back seemed to take less time then he remembered, and soon they were back in the warmth and safety of their own room. In silence, the two removed their jackets and boots so that they could dry, but instead of slinking off to the shower like Toki had expected him to, Magnus sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

“I… I don’t know if I did the right thing.” Magnus finally looked up at Toki who still stood, his eyes weary. “If he’s not there tomorrow…”

“He wills be…” It was all Toki could do to reassure both Magnus and himself.

“It’s your first night without it… How are… How are you feeling?”

“Fines…” Toki shrugged lightly, dropping his gaze to the floor in something like embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Magnus to ask – and suddenly, he wished he hadn’t. His mind had been too preoccupied to worry about the effects of a missed dose, which he wasn’t going to feel until later that night. Up until now, he’d been trying not to think about it, but it was quickly dawning on him that his body had become a ticking time bomb the second after he’d taken his last dose. He grew lightheaded as the anxiety began to gnaw away at him from inside. Desperate for another distraction, he found himself continuing the conversation by asking a question he’d had since they’d left the house but normally would never have dared to ask.

“W-were you scared back theres?” It was a stupid question.

“Scared? Ha.” Magnus gave a cocky laugh.

Of course not. Maybe he just needed to turn on the TV instead-

“Toki. I was terrified.”

That…was unexpected.

“You were?”

“I thought you saw- I thought it was obvious.” Magnus shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We had a lot riding on this deal… Not to mention I never wanted to step foot in a place like that again.”

“Oh.” It was the only word that came to him. The silence that followed was awkward, to say the least, until Magnus finally pushed himself off the bed to head for the shower.

“Well, it’ll all be over tomorrow, one way or another. Just hang in there until then.”

Taking in a deep breath as soon as Magnus shut the door, Toki tried to snap himself out of it. It wasn’t like this would be the first time he’d missed a dose. He’d be fine. They were going to have his insulin by noon. Maybe they’d catch a break.

Maybe things could be easy for once.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first half of a chapter i decided to split in two. the next part will come out very soon! its already almost entirely written. also disclaimer: I'm definitely not a drug dealer and despite all my research i've probably got a lot of this drug stuff and the stuff coming up wrong. just....chalk it up to canon-levels of unrealistic if you want.


	17. Taking Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walter White and Jesse Pinkman- wait.......wrong series...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sudden PoV shift to Magnus because i liked it better.

The journey to the dealer’s headquarters would have been significantly less stressful in the daylight if the cop car patrolling the neighborhood hadn’t parked a few houses away. To avoid it, Magnus lead Toki into the dead overgrowth of the park, following the edge of the trees until they disappeared behind the houses. Rejoining the worn path they’d used the night before, they quickly arrived at the backyard, this time guarded by a tall, thin man who looked even less excited to be there than the first.

“Make it fast.”

The man stepped aside and allowed them into the now hauntingly empty house. While still trashed, there was not a soul to be seen. Particles of dust drifted through the beams of sunlight that shone through the boarded windows, casting an eerie, almost post-apocalyptic glow throughout the filthy, abandoned rooms. The dust and smell must have agitated Toki’s chest as it had the prior night, but this time he allowed himself a stifled, occasional cough as they navigated to the front of the house. Once at the foot of the stairs, Magnus quietly urged him to refrain from coughing as much as possible, just one last time. If all went according to plan, they’d be back outside in a few short minutes. Finally, they continued up the stairs with added caution.

To Magnus’ surprise, Exec was actually there, looking out the window in the space between the boards. A single guard stood in the corner of the room nearest the stair’s landing, watching their every move closely. Exec turned his head slightly as they approached the table, which had been stripped completely clean of the tools and materials they’d seen just last night.

“Welcome back.” He finally turned and stopped at the table, his smile ever present. “Glad you could make it. I was about to leave.”

“We’re _early,_ ” Magnus immediately shot back. He’d effectively spent all night trying to channel his fear into anger and agitation.

“Yeah, well, as you can see, I had to clear the place out. We got tips on a bust. The cops’ll be flooding the place before the hour’s out.”

 _“Shit-”_ Like they needed this.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head off. We have time to finish what we started. And more.” His word on the matter was hardly reassuring but Magnus dug up the last thirty dollars and pressed it flat against the table regardless.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with. Where’s your end?”

Exec’s hand disappeared into the pocket of his rather expensive looking coat, fishing up the vial of insulin and placing it on the table. He kept his fingers firmly planted on the vial, his eyes locked onto Magnus’ again, waiting. But as Magnus slid the money forward and reached for the insulin, Exec abruptly jerked it back out of Magnus’ reach, ignoring the cash completely.

“The fuck are you doing?” Magnus hissed, pulling back and clenching his fist, crushing the bills in anger. “We had a fucking deal.”

“We _have_ a deal, I promise. But I want to make an extension to the offer.”

“We don’t have time for this shit.”

“Listen. You can have this and walk away,” Exec said, shaking the vial, “or you can have this, and a hell of a lot more.”

“Just give me the insulin so we can all get the hell out of here,” Magnus replied, in utter disbelief that he would choose to play this game at the worst time possible. “I’m not interested in anything else.”

“But you _were_ interested in this yesterday.” Exec reached into his inside coat pocket and produced a boxed glucose meter kit, pressing it down on the table next to the insulin. “It’s got all that fancy shit. Pretty expensive.” He paused for a moment to revel in the surprise he’d garnered before continuing. “Remember how we were talking desperate? And I told you that I deal with a lot of desperate motherfuckers every day? Well,” he tilted his head, smiling knowingly, “none of them have ever managed to sell me my own product before.”

Magnus’ blood froze over and he could almost feel the color drain from his face. Toki had fallen completely still at his side, no doubt just as afraid of what came next. They’d been caught red-handed. Was this really it? Was this really the end of the line? Somehow the dealer figured out he’d been tricked and was probably so furious he cleared the house out to kill them without the risk of witnesses. Magnus was certain there was at least one gun somewhere in the room, in the drawer, in his jacket, on the guard... Even if they tried to run now, they’d just be shot from behind. At least it would be a more gracious death than being strung up by intestines…

“Oh?” His smile growing wider at their reaction, Exec looked from Magnus to Toki and back to Magnus again, brows furrowed in a playful surprise. “So you knew? God, no need to look so terrified! It’s not like you pulled a fast one on me or anything. Trust me, I knew, too. Had a feeling before I even tasted it, but that confirmed it.”

“What?” Magnus breathed, shocked at his unexpected excitement.

“We cut our shit with a little special something, make it kinda signature. Anyway, about that extension to the deal. Let me lay my cards all out on the table here while we still have time. What you saw last night was just a tiny, unassuming part of something much bigger than you can imagine. The profit I made from turning what you sold me was pennies. I mean, come on, I don’t mean to _brag_ or anything but I’m not just your neighborhood drug dealer.”

“Could have fooled me,” Magnus shot back, struggling to regain face.

“Good, because that’s the goal,” Exec shrugged, shaking his head as if it were obvious. “ _But,_ just between you and me, just last week I imported about a million in heroin alone, okay? A couple of hundred bucks from the sales you’re giving me from the pharmacy? Not even a drop in the pond. That’s where I started off, not where I’m at now.”

“Get to the point.”

“Well, people of such high caliber, people such as myself, they don’t exactly dirty their hands with selling. I informed you on this last night, right? Well, this organization I’ve got going is growing _pret-ty_ quickly. I don’t like having to hang around dumps like this myself and I've got obligations outside of my job, but I’ve got holes to cover until I get more people to do it for me. To put it simply, I want you to sell for me.”

Silence reigned through the room. Incapable of summoning a more appropriate reaction to the outrageous offer, Magnus cut the tension with a laugh, leaning back in his seat and raising his eyebrows.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

It had to be. He couldn’t comprehend the motive behind the request in the slightest. Pushing millions in some kind of organization but picking up strangers off the street to do his dirty work for him? It was idiotic at best.

“I’m very serious,” Exec nodded. “I think you have what it takes. I can see it in your eyes. Eye? You get it. You don’t seem to be the type to get defensive when you can get aggressive instead. And I like that. I _need_ that. You said it yourself. You’re desperate. You’ve got something more than money, more than a high, to work for. So here’s my counteroffer. You take this insulin, you take this meter, you keep that thirty bucks. And you sell for me. You’ll make more money than you know what to do with and get your insulin at the same time. I give you clients, locations, and the product, and you go and you just sell for me. That’s all.”

“You’re putting a lot of trust in a guy you only just met. Sounds like you’re the desperate one here.”

The corners of Exec’s ever present smile lifted almost imperceptibly.

“No one makes big money fast by playing it safe. Just don’t feel too special. You’re not the first I’ve recruited this way. Besides, I wouldn’t trust you right off the bat, just like I don’t expect you to trust me.”

“Humor me,” Magnus challenged. “How could risking everything I have left be worth it for me?”

“You’ll take home five percent of every sale you complete-”

“You can take your bullshit percentages and shove them so far up your ass-“

“Oh come _on_. You two are trying to scrape together some sort of living with an expensive disease, while what? Hiding from someone? Who is it? The cops? Your long estranged sister whose sick teenage son you kidnapped? If you’re motivated to make money and keep your nephew alive, then I’m the best shot you’ve got.”

“Like you fucking know anything about our situation.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Guess what. I don’t actually give a fuck,” Exec fired back. “You’re right. I don’t know anything about your situation besides the fact that someone’s got diabetes. Probably Grim Jr. over there. But what I do know is there are positions open in a very lucrative field, perfect for people who don’t have much to lose, but a lot to gain.”

Magnus bit the inside of his lip. No matter how tempting he made the idea seem, the risks astronomically outweighed the benefits. He hadn’t ripped into Toki for wanting to stay in the city for no reason. The point had certainly been made that they couldn’t stay in one place, and even worse, the job, dangerous as it already was, would put Magnus in direct contact with heroin and other hard drugs on a daily basis. One bad day, one little itch…if Toki wasn’t there to stop him, he could ruin everything in a matter of seconds. It would also leave Toki like he was in the beginning, trapped in a motel waiting for Magnus to return while anxiety left him fearing into the night that he’d been arrested or murdered.

Toki must have realized all of these factors as well and Magnus’ silent contemplation no doubt concerned him. Magnus felt movement to his right and Toki was suddenly leaning in, just slightly, to timidly whisper to him.

“I don’t know if-”

 _“Shh, shh, shh…”_ Exec silenced Toki instantly. “The adults are talking right now. Unless…you want to be a part of this big decision.”

Toki jolted straight up and pulled slightly back and away from Magnus, no doubt cursing himself for speaking as all attention shifted entirely to him. Magnus cringed internally, wishing Toki had stayed quiet but Exec was already opening his big mouth again.

“You’ve got your objections, I’m sure, but diabetes really blows, doesn’t it kid? You know how fast people die from that shit when it goes untreated? It’s like a domino effect on your body, you know, because it’s shutting down from the inside. I don’t mean to make you paranoid, but have your feet been feeling numb at all? You real thirsty all the time? Maybe you’re always tired and maybe you’re thinking, am I going crazy or is my vision getting worse? But you can’t remember shit no more, so you don’t even think much else of it.”

“That’s enough,” Magnus finally interrupted, not wanting things to get to Toki’s head, but he could barely get another word in.

“Oh, come on now, don’t sugar coat it for the poor bastard. He looks like he’s on death’s doorstep and he’s got some kind of respiratory infection to boot. We could hear him coughing halfway up the street. Probably woke the whole damn neighborhood last night. Honestly now, how are you going to explain to your sister that you just let her son die, huh? Five percent on some of these sales pays for a room for the night, _and_ I can get you whatever medicine he might need, whenever you need it. Next month’s insulin, antivirals, antibiotics… I’m telling you, I’m your best bet out here.”

Every word he spoke was nothing more than one-sided banter to Magnus. The longer he tried to convince them to work for him, the more impatient Magnus grew, and their time limit did little to help his anxiety in the slightest. He threw the crumpled money down to the table, signifying that the conversation was over. This guy was nothing but a drug dealer who liked to hear himself talk. There was nothing he could do for them besides get them killed faster. Toki was fine enough as it was. They didn’t need to concern themselves with non-urgent matters when he still didn’t have the fucking insulin he’d come here for in hand.

“Stop wasting your breath and just give us the insulin.”

Exec pressed his lips together and gave a light shrug, finally giving in and pushing the insulin over to Magnus but pocketing the glucose meter once more.

“Just remember that you could have done more for him... God, what a shame it’d be if he died from pneumonia like it was the goddamn dark ages or something.” Giving Magnus a smug smile, he picked up the money that he’d earlier ignored, enjoying how Magnus watched helplessly as he took claim to the “pennies” that could have kept he and Toki fed for a week. “I suppose that’s it then. Thanks for the business and good luck out there.” He cast one last look over his shoulder, his gaze shooting straight past Magnus and directly into Toki. “I’ll be checking the obituaries.” With that, he slipped down the stairs and his guard followed, leaving Magnus and Toki alone, insulin finally theirs.

Picking up the vial and hesitating for only a moment as he processed the success, Magnus quickly turned to Toki, giving him a breathy laugh mixed with disbelief and triumph – but the smile was wiped off his face as quickly as it had come. Toki’s expression was the exact opposite of what he expected. His eyes were wide and lost in some terrifying thought, his face a ghastly pallor somehow a shade even sicker than usual. Alarmed, Magnus reviewed the entire exchange, his mind racing as he tried to find the cause for Toki’s obvious fright. Anxiety welled in the pit of his stomach. He thought he’d done the right thing. Toki had even tried to object to the idea himself, hadn’t he? What could have been wrong?

“Toki…?” His name was just a whisper but it stirred Toki from his mind all the same. Their eyes met but Toki, of course, remained silent. Magnus gritted his teeth. “What did I do wrong this time?” he offered, exasperated.

“N-nothing. We should get out of heres…”

“…Right.”

It wasn’t enough of an answer, but he’d almost forgotten about the police. He’d just have to address the issue later…though by then it’d be too late to change anything. Trying to shake it off, Magnus led Toki back down the stairs and made it through the hallway before stopping at the back door abruptly. It hit him all at once. Exec had planted doubt in Toki’s mind. All that talk about dying from diseases other than diabetes had reminded him of the issue of his condition. He was probably questioning if it was wise to leave his cough untreated... No, Magnus realized, no, Toki’s illness was more than just a cough and he knew it. In the past two weeks Toki had grown more forgetful and easily exhausted, often even falling unresponsive at times. He recalled the moment Toki had latched onto his arm in his sleep, the heat of his fever bleeding through Magnus’ jacket. His cough had just been a part of something more serious but Magnus hadn’t been able to look past the more pressing need for insulin, even while standing in line for fever reducers. Magnus swallowed hard, biting the inside of his lip. They still had time. Turning his back to the door, he faced Toki suddenly, startling him.

“What do you want me to do?”

“…What?”

“What do you want me to do?” Magnus repeated firmly, but Toki only blanked. “I’ll do it if you want me to.”

“It’s a real bad ideas…” Toki’s protest was weak and Magnus found himself sighing.

“Something tells me you’re not so convinced yourself.”

“We really should gets out of heres…”

“It’s your health. I don’t need his medicine…but you do. It’s your decision to make.”

“I’m fine. I don’t needs him.” Magnus could tell Toki was forcing the lies straight through his teeth. “And if I do laters, we can just finds another guys... We did it once, we can do it agains.”

Yeah. They got here alright. At the cost of three people’s lives. If it meant more people being murdered just for them to stay afloat, Magnus wasn’t sure if he wanted there to be a second time.

“Toki, tell me straight. We can still go after him. He couldn’t have gotten too far yet.”

Toki shook his head slightly, panicking from the pressure.

“Go with your gut instinct on this. Hurry.”

There was a painfully long pause that probably only lasted seconds before Toki finally spoke again.

“Do you…”

Magnus felt a wave of relief. He knew it. Toki did want him to do it after all.

“Do you think you can… you knows… be arounds drugs and everythings?”

“I’ll be fine. I can do it.” He had to.

“What if we tries it for a while? We could get another month of insulins….and some anti-…antibioc…stuffs for my cough…”

“We could.” Dangerous or not, it wasn’t a bad idea. “Just for a while, save up some money and get you treated and then keep moving…”

“But the Assassin?”

Ever the thorn in their side. But what more could they do? They were sleeping on the streets for weeks and he did nothing but watch until he had the chance to make a point.

“…He’s already proven we can’t lose him. He’ll get us on his own time. Until then, we can either give up or…keep trying. I mean, I think the moment we stop entertaining him we’re dead. So let’s stop worrying about him and focus on trying to stay alive…for now.”

“…Okay.”

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Though Toki couldn’t run, if they hurried there was still a chance they could catch the dealer. They burst through the back door, and before their eyes could even adjust to the sunlight, Magnus spotted the guard first and then Exec himself, leaning back against the opening in the fence nonchalantly.

“Oh, there you are. I was wondering what was taking you two so long.”

Magnus absolutely hated that he’d known they’d change their minds but there wasn’t time to hesitate or look back. He kept moving forward, approaching Exec with as much conviction as he could muster.

“It’s your lucky day. I’ve changed my mind.”

Exec’s smirk finally parted into a toothy grin that stretched from ear to ear. He opened his arms out in a welcoming gesture, kicking off from the fence.

“Well, you’ve just made an _excellent_ decision,” he nodded reassuringly, but his smile betrayed the thought. “So if that’s that then, as long as you don’t have anything else to do this fine morning, follow me, quickly. We’ll talk details elsewhere. Our guests will be here any minute and honestly, I think it’s too early for a party.” He spun on his heel and headed out through the makeshift exit, slipping out with his guard into the barren trees.

Magnus reluctantly set out after him, casting a quick glance back at Toki in hopes that some of his worries had been lifted. But if they had, Magnus couldn’t tell as Toki’s hand gripped at his side and his eyes, heavy with fatigue, stayed glued to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i actually rewrote almost the whole chapter from the ground up, taking out a ton of tedious dialogue, namely the details concerning exec's little organization. i'll be incorporating what i can next chapter, and then info-dumping for those who care at all on my fic blog.
> 
> on another note, thank you all for the support. i can't say it enough, really. every comment reminds me of why i write. thank you for sticking with me through these long pauses.


	18. 17.5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is literally an info dump that wasn't meant to be a chapter at all but a little side thing for my writing blog under a read more. then it got a little longer and i figured, why not share it with more people, boring and unimportant as it is? anyway idk its skippable, feel free to ignore it. it's mostly just a dialogue exchange with little other details. 
> 
> Toki and Magnus followed the dealer to an office in a building he owns or something. idk imagine whatever you want its not important.

“Now, sit down, sit down. Let’s jump right in and talk details, my friend. Your nephew can sit on the floor if he doesn’t want to stand. This might take a while.”

Magnus stepped inside the room cautiously, Toki at his heels, and slowly made his way to the single chair for visitors as Exec moved behind the glossy, mahogany desk and removed his coat, hanging it on the chair behind him.

“So first off, what do I call you?” Exec began, shrugging as Toki decided to stand rather than sit. “A name would be easier than referencing you by your looks. Like…” His words were cut off with something stuck between a snort and a cackle. _“The goat and his kid.”_

Magnus’ eyes narrowed as the dealer erupted into laughter clutching his side and dabbing at his eye as if wiping away tears.

“Oh my god, that is just too fucking- holy fuck, sorry, man, sorry, I’m good,” he managed, trying his best to compose himself. “Jesus, just don’t fucking tell me your name is Billy, or I swear to god I’m going to really lose it.”

Magnus rubbed his temple, holding back a sigh. Why was he constantly surrounded by idiots?

“Just call me Devin…”

“Devin? Okay, thank god. You can just call me Exec, or John. Either or. It doesn’t really matter to me. I usually go by Exec when the people I’m dealing with go by John. It happens more than you’d think.”

“Can we get to business?”

“Of course, of course, let’s get you educated. First, let’s talk prices. My competitors, they dish out garbage, you know, baking powder, chemicals, shit that's been stepped on over and over to the people that are desperate. They'll charge you anywhere from as low as eighty bucks to two hundred for a gram of it. But again, it's trash. I've got ethics, you know? I can't feed my loyal customers shit that'll kill 'em. I gotta get them to come back. Better shit, better high. But this is all Dealing 101. Better addiction, better business. My lowest is one-fifty a gram and let me tell you, my one-fifty is leagues better than their two-hundred. And if you got the money, we can talk tiers. And for my uppity clients, the rich white folk up in those nice, expensive suburbs, I've got premium drugs for premium prices. Goddamn do they love it. Even got some designer shit coming up here real soon. I know you’ll probably want to go sell to them for the higher commission, but with those tightasses you gotta look like one of them… And you don’t exactly…You look…”

“I get it.”

“Well, I’ll be sticking you with the low and mid tier clientele for now. Honestly you’ll fit right in with them. Let’s see if you can pull in some new customers.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

“If you really need the money, you’ll find a way to make it work. But I suppose I can lend you some tips. First of all, it all starts with addiction. You make it sound good for them. Talk ‘em up. When it’s a new client, maybe one of those rich fraternity boys, tell ‘em, if you’re looking to have a _really_ great time out on the town, you’ve got just what they need and, hey, just for you, your first hit’s heavily discounted. When they start to go, _oh actually I don’t know…_ that’s when you hit them with an _okay, how about a hit on the house?_ You know how it is, I’m sure. With heroin, once you get them to do it once or twice-” He slammed his hand on the table. “BAM. It’s basically done. You got ‘em addicted. And then you’re golden. Oh, and always leave them your contact info. You don’t want them going to someone else.”

“I don’t have contact information.”

Exec groaned.

“Why do I have to do everything for you? Just go pick up a prepaid cellphone, something basic just for phone calls or something, it’s like, the first thing you fucking do.” His head tilted in thought until he suddenly lit up with an idea. “Actually. I can bring you one. It still has minutes… And a bunch of contacts that you can take as your own.”

“It was someone else’s?” As the words left his mouth, Magnus suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the details on it. He probably would have been better off just getting his own.

“Yeah, a guy I axed recently. Didn’t need it anymore so I took it off him. Couldn’t just leave all his clients hanging, y’know? In fact, you could probably take his district in time, if you devote yourself.”

“District?”

“As you know, I’ve got sellers who run their own parts of this city and the suburbs around it while I do all the _actually_ hard stuff. I collect the information and import the drugs, then I give it to them to just go make a simple exchange. They do their thing, then they keep their part of the money and I keep mine. But back to dealing with the new clients, it’s important to tell you that once you get them hooked, they’ll keep coming back for more, but you can’t just throw them in and leave ‘em to drown. Make sure they’re doing it right, teach them everything you can so they do it the safe way. We want our clients as healthy as we can keep ‘em. Dead junkies don’t come back with money.”

“That house we met up in didn’t seem like it was full of safe practices.”

“You’re absolutely right. I wasn’t in charge of that part of town. The guy I mentioned earlier? The one I axed. He was in charge of that dump, but he obviously wasn’t as discriminatory as I am. That’s why he had to go. Unfortunately that means I have to fill in until I find someone good enough to take his district.”

“You don’t mingle with the commoners often then?”

“Not in a while, I’m afraid. Which brings me to my next bit of advice. Always pack heat. Always. Buy a gun as soon as you can. That little toy knife of yours isn’t going to do shit for you if things go south. You’ve got to go in knowing someone at some point is going to try to kill you if you can’t talk your way out of it.”

How encouraging.

“It’s a risk you knew you’d take so don’t act surprised. But, on a more positive note, I like to take care of the people that work for me. In the hopes that you’ll be sticking around and I’m not just blowing hot air out of my ass, I’ve gone ahead and found a place for the two of you to stay. It’s entirely up to you, though. It’s a hotel a friend of a friend owns.”

“We can’t afford a hotel.”

“Consider it me investing in my risks. Or maybe I’m just devilishly altruistic? Who knows. I’ll pay for one night, just to help you get on your feet, but-” he twisted around to the coat hanging over the back of his chair, fishing up a sheet of folded paper from his inner pocket and handing it over to Magnus. Taking it, Magnus realized it was a list of appointments scheduled for tomorrow. “It’s just like that medicine you need. Work for it, and you’ll earn your discounts. They have extended stay. I can have him arrange it by week, and the better you work, we can see about reducing the costs week by week.”

“Why exactly are you going to these lengths for us?”

“Let me ask you this. What you’re doing, the reason you’re here talking with me right now… Why are you doing it? What do you gain from it? And I don’t mean in the general sense. There’s a _very_ _specific_ reason we all make the decisions we make. If there’s anything you’ll come to learn out here, it’s that people never do anything that doesn’t in some way benefit their own circumstances. You’ll do good to remember that.”

Magnus could only stare back as he tried to figure out if there was some kind of foreboding message hidden in his reply, but Exec was through with educating him for the day.

“One last thing before you go. I don’t just sell drugs. I sell information. Making money off of information is just a bonus. I use it to keep my own ass safe, to put it bluntly, and I use it to protect the people who work for me. That said, I don’t take even the slightest betrayal lightly. If you decide that you’d rather run off with the money, or even shortchange me…you _will_ wish that whoever you’re running from got to you first. Are we understood?”

“Absolutely.”

“Wonderful. Now run along. I have a busy day ahead of me. The address to the hotel is on the back of that sheet. Just ask to speak with a manager and tell them John sent you. Everything should be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow, Devin.”


	19. Tending

Toki looked around the room like he hadn’t spent the past several years living in a castle. The hotel they’d been recommended was far from luxury, but it was a hotel nonetheless. The room was big, bright, and clean – better than he could say about any of the motels they’d been frequenting. As Magnus shut the door behind them and moved to drop the backpack at the bed, Toki felt himself being called to the light pouring in from the long, vertical windows in the back. As he drew closer, he quickly realized the center window was in fact a sliding door leading out to a small balcony.

Curious, Toki opened the door and stepped outside, brushing snow off the railing as he leant over it. Despite the dark and cold, the streets were as lively as ever. And yet, from so high up above, the pedestrians below didn’t feel the same as the ones who’d scrambled past Toki and Magnus, pulling their children closer and muttering to not even spare a look at the two dirty and undoubtedly disease-ridden, alcoholic, and drug addicted bums. They’d always tried to stay out of sight, huddled under their coats and hoods in some alley, under some fire escape, tucked away in a shallow alcove on the side of a building, but people all too frequently managed to find a way to walk by them. Toki was always grateful when they shuffled along, only using their alley as a shortcut to the next street. Even when they offered choice comments, and even once spat on Toki, these people were preferable over the ones that forced them to move their aching and frozen bodies to search elsewhere for somewhere to sleep.

And so, being up so high felt oddly liberating. It was as if they’d left their worries down on the ground, back in the shadier areas – parts carefully hidden from view in this more affluent part of the city. Unlike the motels of the past, their window no longer looked over a creepy, grimy parking lot. Their view from the fourth floor was just enough to see around the better parts of downtown, just off a busy street packed with fancy bars and quaint little shops and restaurants to their left and right. And just below, on the side of the street opposite of their hotel, something even more interesting caught Toki’s eye. A wooden terrace, little iron wrought tables topped with colorful parasols coated with perfect snow - colorful, blinking string lights twined around the poles and woven throughout the terrace –

Toki was more than intrigued at the rather charming, particular décor, but before he could connect the dots, a melody reached his ears, followed by a distant, incomprehensible but musical voice. Was music – no, not just music but _live music_ – coming from the interior?

“Haven’t you had enough of the cold?” Magnus called out from inside, pulling Toki from his reverie. “At least close the door.”

Toki tried to hide his smile to no avail. He felt like a kid in a candy shop, or at the very least a kid on vacation. Slipping back inside and sliding the door shut, Toki twisted the blinds down and found himself both surprised and delighted that they actually closed. Ready to see what other exciting things were in store for him, he scanned the room over once more.

There was still only a single queen-sized bed, but directly to Toki’s left, a lounge chair was tucked away in the corner of the room with a thin pillow and blanket resting folded in the seat. Noting their generous accommodations with a resigned sigh, Toki turned his attention to the flatscreen TV opposite of the bed, then to the open bathroom. The granite countertops, tacky and cheap as they were, were granite all the same and a huge step up from the stained plastic and coated plywood – once moldy and rotting, in one motel – Toki had grown accustomed to. The towels, sink, shower, tub, everything was pristine and white.

“It ain’ts half bads…”

“Enjoy it while you can. Who knows how long we’ll be able to afford it.”

“Do you reallies think you can do it? The jobs I mean…”

“It’s a little too late to be asking that.”

Toki bowed his head slightly in acceptance, letting the awkward silence fill the room. It was stupid to have questioned the choices he’d essentially forced Magnus to make. Turning to face the balcony door once again, he pried open two slats at eye level to watch the busy street from the warmth of indoors, but the glare against the windows made it next to impossible to see much. With nowhere else to really go, Toki sat in the lounge chair, enduring the silence as Magnus cracked the door open to hang the “do not disturb” sign on their doorknob. His mind drifted to the venue across the street, and another stupid question rose without his permission.

“Am I goings to be stuck in here all days too?”

Magnus turned with a tilted head, staring Toki down with a look of bewilderment.

“Do you really need to ask?”

Toki slowly exhaled, downcast. In all his prior excitement, he’d forgotten that this place was just a fancier prison. He had to look on the bright side: how could he argue with the fortuitous hand they’d been dealt? Out of all the places in which he’d been locked up throughout his life, this was the best option by a landslide.

“If things go well,” Magnus continued suddenly, “and I figure out what the hell I’m doing… Once I get some real cash flow, maybe we can go pick up some essentials. Restock on some things.”

“Reallies…?”

“I guess we wouldn’t even be here right now if I’d left you in the motel when we got your insulin.”

Suddenly, Toki wondered why Magnus had taken him along at all when he could have been left in their room that night. Had Magnus needed the support? He _had_ said it himself – he’d been scared. Perhaps Toki’s presence had taken the edge of his anxiety? It was entirely wishful thinking, but Toki turned in his seat to face the covered windows without a word, pulling his knees up to his chest and hiding his smile behind them.

“Speaking of, use the glucose meter already. I’ll help you figure out how to adjust the dosage if you need.”

“I can do it.”

“Fine.” Toki heard the door open with a click. “Eat whatever you want from the bag if you need to. I’m going to go figure out what kind of shit this place lets us use. I saw a sign for a laundry room.”

Once the door shut, Toki made his way to the backpack, fishing up the meter. Breaking the seal on the box, he slid the device out and began to set it up for its first use. He didn’t know how it worked or what everything exactly meant but both Nathan and Offdensen had drilled the most important information into his head so that he could take care of himself in an emergency. There had been a lot to get acquainted with, and it was scary at times, but he’d taken pride in being able to learn and do something for himself. When Magnus had done it all for him, for two months he had felt stripped of every shred of autonomy he might have had left. It was for safety reasons, Magnus had once told him. He couldn’t just leave Toki with a tool he could use to cause injury to himself, or even Abigail. They needed him alive after all.

Toki breathed out slowly and pushed the memory from his mind. After washing his hands in the bathroom, he inserted a test strip into the meter and pricked his finger with the lancet. Applying the blood to the strip, Toki’s mind began to wander again. Just how much Magnus had to teach himself about diabetes just to keep Toki alive, all for the sake of his plan? The sudden, frantic beeping brought Toki’s focus back to the screen. His stomach dropped. 231. His blood sugar was dangerously high. Fighting off the rising panic, he discarded the strip and washed his hands again, staring himself down in the mirror. He’d been expecting his levels to be bad but actually seeing the number… Anything could have been making it worse, from the wound in his stomach to the infection in his lungs. It was becoming clearer every second that they’d made the right decision in taking up the dealer’s offer. The antibiotics couldn’t come fast enough.

No longer required to ration the insulin, Toki carefully adjusted the dose, keeping the meter close by to check his levels through the night. All he could do now was chug as much water as he could bear and try to relax. Turning off all the lights save for the two bedside lamps, Toki pushed the lounge chair closer to the balcony door, raising the blinds. With the lights off, the glare had been significantly reduced, allowing him to see night life below. His attention was drawn back to the bright blinking lights that had been strung up in the trees and along sidewalk railings, blinking in a cheerful slew of colors. In an oddly festive display, the venue across the street had opted for only green and red string lights. It almost felt like Christmas, Toki mused to himself as his eyelids grew heavy. Eventually realizing the cold from the glass was seeping into him, he pulled the still-folded blanket up, shaking it just loose enough to drape it over his shoulders, but as he did so, his eyes caught movement in the reflection on the glass. Magnus’ figure drew closer, and Toki twisted around with an involuntary start.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Magnus quickly spoke, raising his hands up and stopping dead in his tracks. “I just wanted to ask a question. I thought you heard me come back in.”

“Wh-what?” Embarrassed at his reaction, Toki desperately tried to mask his mortification.

“You don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. But the only reason we’re here right now- when I refused the deal, you looked... I don’t know, fucked up about it. What was that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talkings about,” Toki lied. How obvious had his face been back then?

“…It’s fine. Forget I asked.” As Magnus turned away, Toki let out a sigh of his own.

“Waits.”

Magnus stopped and glanced back, raising his eyebrows. He’d given Toki more information about himself than he’d ever expected to learn from him. He could afford to give back…just a little.

“He said I coulds have pneumonia.” Ignoring Magnus’ obvious shock that he could actually pronounce the word, Toki continued. “I had it once when I was littles and nearly dieds from it. That’s all.”

“Oh…” Magnus trailed off and Toki couldn’t tell if he was surprised or disappointed. “Well…We’ll have your antibiotics and shit soon.” The awkwardness from earlier still hung in the air. Picking up on it, Magnus retreated to the bathroom for a shower, leaving Toki to his thoughts.

He hadn’t lied, but in all truth, the moment he’d heard the word “pneumonia,” Toki’s fear had set, changing his mind immediately. As he told Magnus, contracting the disease as a child had nearly killed him. That was really all it was. It was very simple to explain to others. But to Toki, it had never been as simple as it seemed. Back then, the onset of coughing came from living much like he’d been; dirty and cold and rife with infection. After coughing up blood and foolishly seeking help from his mother, both parents had him quarantined in the freezing shed outside where his condition only worsened. Still forced to work, Toki pushed himself even harder in an attempt to show them he was fine after all, but his efforts convinced no one. And only when he could no longer stand had a doctor been called to visit. Toki remembered hearing the doctor just after his examination. She stood outside the door of the shed with his parents, firmly informing them of his prognosis, and when his father refused treatment, her voice raised in anger. _Lungebetennelse,_ she’d repeated it over for him, slower, stressing each syllable before switching to English and doing the same in an attempt to drive the point across. _Pneumonia. Han vil dø uten medisinsk hjelp._ Days passed and Toki, bedridden and sequestered, had been unable to do anything but hear those words echoing in his mind. He desperately sought to accept his fate as he coughed and wheezed his throat raw and his ribs sore. And then, just when he’d begun to realize that maybe…just maybe, his parents had possibly forsaken him, just when he’d made his peace with death at eight years of age, his mother came to him with medicine, slowly bringing an end to the illness. How could he have doubted his own parents? He remembered the thought invading his mind for days after they set him back to work the moment he could walk again.

Exec’s passing mention of the disease had complicated everything. Toki didn’t want to become useless again. He didn’t want to be back in the same position when he first escaped, unable to walk, let alone stand. Going through the hell of that disease again and falling so ill he’d become bedridden – he was already a great enough hindrance for Magnus. As abnormally thoughtful as he’d been in the past three days, Toki knew the yelling and threatening would return soon enough, at the drop of a hat. When that time came again, he didn’t need to have given Magnus more reasons to leave him on his own. On top of it all, he didn’t know if pneumonia was contagious. What if Magnus got sick from him?

Sighing, Toki draped the blanket over himself properly and propped the pillow up under his head. He supposed worrying wouldn’t change anything. Magnus would either do well tomorrow, or he would fail spectacularly. Everything was riding on Magnus now. All Toki could do at the moment was control his blood sugar and have faith in one of the most untrustworthy people he’d ever known.

 

* * *

 

 

Though he wanted to keep sleeping, the sunlight pouring in from the windows and balcony door gave him no choice but to finally give in. Stretching out in his chair, Toki turned to scan the room. Magnus had already gone. But he wasn’t going to let worry ruin the day. The sky outside was bright and blue, an exciting change of pace from the grey, joyless drab of usual. Though he couldn’t go outside beyond the balcony, it gave him the naïve hope that things were finally going to start looking up.

Standing with another stretch, Toki began his way to the bathroom but stopped as something caught the corner of his eye. The hotel’s notepad was propped up against the TV, a message hastily scrawled across it in pen.

 _Breakfast is free. It’s on the first floor._  
_You can go down, just don’t draw attention to yourself._  
_It ends at 10._

Toki immediately spun on his heel to check the alarm clock on the night stand – it was already half past noon. Closing his eyes and groaning in defeat, Toki dragged himself to the bathroom. Granola bars again, it seemed. But with nothing to do and nowhere to go, Toki was determined to try and relax. With such a clean and rust-free tub, he opted to draw a bath rather than take a fast shower. After the hot water grew cold, he was left with no choice but to put his dirty clothes back on, he wondered if Magnus had in fact found the laundry room and if they’d even be able to afford to use the machines at all. He wanted to go take a look himself, but with permission only granted to go downstairs for food, Toki decided not take any risks.

Instead, he busied himself with checking his blood sugar and eating, then turning the TV on and slipping into the untouched side of the bed. Buried under the blankets and flipping through the TV channels idly, his restlessness still managed to cut through. The blindingly blue sky seemed to mock him through the closed blinds. Of course the nice weather was reserved for the days he was trapped indoors. He found himself stepping out onto the balcony again, ignoring how the wind felt like it was freezing his still-wet hair. Even a few stories up, he could still hear the music resonating out from the venue he was beginning to idolize, but the roof blocked him from seeing just who was making it. Watching closely below, jealousy rose in his chest as more and more people were stopped by the music and drawn into the café. He didn’t care what kind of music it was. Toki yearned to live, to _breathe in_ that atmosphere again. The feeling of live music being played out before him, the enjoyment the audience shared whether it was quiet reverence or the deafening screams of adoration – even if they weren’t directed at him anymore, it didn’t matter.

He listened as close as he could until the song ended and the applause broke out, but as warm as the sun was, the winter air was cutting and sent him back inside. Retreating to the warmth of the blankets again, Toki’s interest in the TV had dropped drastically. Slumping over, he felt his eyes grow heavy as he tried to invest himself in the plot of some movie, but even before the next set of commercials, he was out again.

 

The sound of a door closing stirred Toki awake but in his disoriented grogginess, he kept his eyes closed, sure it was only the TV he’d left on. When something landed in front of his face with a loud rattle, his eyes flew open and he sat up with a terrified jolt as if he’d been bitten by a snake. Evening had apparently fallen and Magnus had just returned, Toki deduced, as he sauntered his way from the lamp he’d just lit to the bathroom. Remembering where he was sitting, Toki removed himself from the bed as quickly as possible while Magnus bent over the sink and began washing his hands. His back was turned in silence, leaving Toki with nothing to gauge the day’s outcome.

“…Well?” He felt himself slowly inching backwards, giving Magnus some space in case he was in a less than cheerful mood. The faucet squeaked and the sound of the water stopped. Magnus dried his hands and turned, leaning back against the sink. Exhaustion aside, his face seemed different, somehow, but Toki couldn’t place it.

“Well…” He shrugged and nodded down at the bed. Toki’s eyes followed the motion until he noticed what had been thrown next to him only moments before: an orange prescription bottle full of white pills. “Apparently today was sort of…a test.” He seemed almost embarrassed to admit it. “I didn’t know until I finished everything, but he was there the whole time, following me around and watching me. The guy’s a fucking weirdo, that’s for sure, but I guess I did something right because when I went to give him the money, he gave me those. They’re your antibiotics.”

“That was fasts…” Toki hadn’t expected them for days. He vaguely recalled some kind of deal where Magnus would have to earn the money and pay for it himself but now it’d just been thrown into their lap. He almost felt apprehensive about taking them.

“I know. Honestly, it feels too good to be true,” Magnus said, pushing off from the sink and circling around the bed to reach the backpack. “The money was decent today, better than what he promised, and we can’t complain about the medicine but… We can’t stay here too long. I don’t feel good about this. It feels like he’s investing in us or something.” He split the cash he’d earned between himself and the backpack. “We’ll just stick to the plan. Make enough money to get the fuck out of dodge, and then get the fuck out of dodge. He said there’s a lot to make off of all these upcoming holiday parties-”

“Holidays?”

“Yeah, New Years’ Eve is going to biggest money maker.”

“New-? What day is todays?”

“The nineteenth?”

“…Of Novembers?”

“Toki…”

“What months is it?” Toki demanded. He was suddenly a bit lightheaded.

“December.”

It felt like a slap of an icy wave. December? How was it already December? The _end_ of December no less? Understanding suddenly hit him. He all but ran out to the balcony, revisiting the lights strung up through the trees and along the buildings, the whites and reds and greens… He felt like such a fucking idiot. So many cues but never had it once occurred to him that it could be December. Almost Christmas. Almost a new year. It was usually his favorite time of year…and his favorite holiday, as extremely un-brutal as it was. Getting everyone gifts and surprising them with things they didn’t know they wanted had always been so exciting, but because the prior year’s Christmas had been _quite_ the disaster, he’d been so determined to make the next one ten times better than usual. He’d had so many ideas, so many things planned – so many things he couldn’t remember. Toki didn’t just feel like an idiot. He really was one.

Part of him still felt trapped in August. That was where his real life had been interrupted. At times it felt strange – that at any second it would simply resume. August would continue. The heat of summer would melt away all the ice in his embittered heart, they’d welcome him home, back to their old lives, like none of this had ever happened. But August ended shortly and then September had gone as well without so much as a whisper to Toki besides the cooling nights. Then the night he’d been freed, the first open sky he’d seen in two months had been that of a dying October, but even still, nothing but the reddening and yellowing leaves had given him any indication of a time frame. More than three and a half months had melted away into what felt like a handful of days filled with nothing but blood and tears and a peculiar emptiness that followed close, even into his dreams.

Toki sighed and his breath hung in the air. His fingers were numb. If they could survive for just a little less than two weeks, they’d be able to greet the new year, a feat he’d been so certain he would never see through. Maybe he still wouldn’t but…maybe the start of a new year was just what he needed to finally throw away the past, for whatever it was worth.

“Will you stop going outside? You’re just going to get yourself sicker.” Magnus’ voice came from behind him.

“I’ll be fines.”

“Did you wake up in time to eat?”

Toki paused, not moving so that he didn’t have to see Magnus’ expression. He’d seen enough already. Magnus’ eyes were weary and spoke volumes of how the day had drained him. He probably didn’t have the energy or desire to deal with Toki’s inadequacy. But Magnus only continued to surprise.

“Take your first dose and we can go get something to eat. Maybe change it up a little and get something nicer.”

“We shouldn’t waste the money-” It was all Toki could shoot back, finally turning around in his bafflement at the suggestion.

“Then I guess I’ll just go alone?” Magnus tilted his head knowingly as Toki’s face fell ever so slightly. “Get your ass in here and let’s go.”

Toki hurried inside, eyes plastered to the floor in shame, but Magnus seemed too tired to be bothered by much of anything. Toki took the first dose of the antibiotics as instructed and followed him out the front lobby. Though the dark had already settled, the evening had only just begun and the lights he’d been admiring from above illuminated the suddenly welcoming streets. Toki took the opportunity to peer into the café’s venue. Through the large windows and open front doors, he could see straight to the back of the main room. A small band was setting up on the stage. Toki didn’t ask to go in but only smiled to himself, satisfied. Though it was only Magnus’ first night on the job, an unwelcome yet unshakable hope had seeded itself somewhere inside Toki. For the first time in ages he walked among other people and felt…at ease. He was no longer bothered by the lost time he’d just learned of. A new year was approaching. It was time to stop living in the past and hoping for what would never come back. He was here now, whether he liked it or not. A new year was a new start. They just had to survive a little longer.

 

It was only halfway through dinner that Toki nearly choked on his salad. The gears that had been grinding away in the back of his mind finally clicked into place and Toki gasped, breathing in half chewed food. Magnus’ face had seemed different but he had been so caught up everything else he hadn’t exactly noticed that his beard had been trimmed down to equal the level of the stubble that had been growing steadily during recent weeks. Magnus, who opted out of eating, had been staring out at nothing across the diner, head propped up against a hand. He did not move as his eyes peered over indifferently at Toki as he choked.

“Finally noticed, huh.” It was more an observation than a question.

Unable to speak, Toki cleared his throat and nodded, wiping at a tearing eye.

“I just don’t really…fucking care anymore. It’s easier this way.”

Toki took a sip of his water and cleared his throat once more. “It looks…”

“Bad?”

“…Betters…” Toki’s voice was meek, and he knew it wasn’t because he’d choked.

Magnus only looked at him pointedly under a heavy brow, only to shrug it off and resume his staring at nothing. “Good then, I guess.”

Toki smiled behind the rim of his glass of water, half out of fear, half out of knowing that even he, as dense as he was, could sense the relief in Magnus’ indifference.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> go wash ur fucking clothes guys doesn't matter if u have clean hair, no one will welcome you in their establishment if ur clothes smell like mildew. also the next chapter is mostly written. it's actually the fun one i keep talking about. this wasn't that fun but i promise no more 4 month waits. if ur still reading this, thank you for your patience. im glad to be writing again.


	20. The High and the Low

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> toki and magnus are girls at a slumber party

Despite their circumstances, the following days proceeded to go exceedingly well. After a few short days on the newly acquired medications, pushing fluids, swaddling himself in warm blankets and sleeping as long as he needed had done wonders for Toki’s health in a short span, and though he still couldn’t leave the hotel, he found he didn’t mind half as much as he thought he would. He felt better than he had in months. Even Magnus was clearly beginning to get the hang of the job, Toki noticed, because every night he returned in a mood slightly better than the night before. It was easy enough to pinpoint the cause: the money he was bringing in was more than enough to keep them afloat. Magnus had even begun to talk of purchasing more luxurious things, things they’d only dreamt of until now, such as a new shirt or pair of pants, or the ever tempting single bottle of beer – just one, that’s all – so when Magnus came home and dropped a wad of cash and what looked like a cigarette at first glance on the table Toki felt his heart nearly stop. He’d been agreeable on the topic of treating themselves to luxuries, but he hadn’t expected Magnus to actually act on it, let alone succumb to cigarettes again.

Halfway across the room, Toki gaped as Magnus washed the day off his hands with no explanation offered. Was he going to start smoking again just because he had the money to afford it? Before Toki could summon the courage to inquire, Magnus stepped out of the bathroom and all too casually began fishing through the backpack.

“I got it for free, don’t worry,” Magnus began, noticing Toki’s apprehension. “I wouldn’t spend money right now on weed of all things.”

“…Weed?” Oh.

Magnus finally dug up what he was searching for – the lighter Toki wished he’d thrown away – and lifted up what Toki finally recognized to be a blunt. Wagging it between his thumb and index fingers, Magnus drew closer. “A client from earlier got a little too friendly and made me take one out of ‘goodwill’ or something because I didn’t ‘have the time’ to sit around and smoke with him. He was obviously already on something when I got there, anyway.”

“Whats are you gonna do with it?” Just because it wasn’t a cigarette didn’t mean it couldn’t cause problems.

Magnus cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing, almost taken aback by the idiotic question. “I’m gonna fucking smoke it?”

“But whats if someone smells it and we gets caught?” Toki shot back in a hushed tone, paranoia crawling over him. They’d been doing so well in the past few days - they certainly didn’t need to risk their asses over a little weed.

But Magnus brushed past him, opened the balcony door, and leant against the doorframe. “Problem solved.” Guarding the lighter with a hand to protect the flame from the cold wind, there was a flash and Magnus lowered the butt of the blunt into the fire, raising his eyebrows at Toki as he unashamedly took the first hit. “Come on,” he breathed out, the smoke quickly whisked away by the wind, “don’t you think we deserve to finally relax a little? Take a load off.” He extended his arm out, holding the lit blunt between two fingers, offering it to Toki.

Toki hesitated – he glanced back at the locked door, then back at Magnus, who jerked his arm out a little further, as if he were luring a cat over with food. He was going to smoke it whether Toki liked it or not. How did that English phrase go? If you can’t beat ‘em…

 Toki swallowed and took the bait.

 

* * *

 

Smoking with an upper respiratory infection was perhaps the stupidest idea he’d had in a while, and the cold air certainly hadn’t helped at all, but the coughing eventually subsided as Toki’s mind grew lighter and he refrained from deep breathing. Their conversation, while initially stilted and plagued by Toki’s coughing fits, had eventually grown more natural as Toki’s constant edge was finally lifted from him. They sat on the floor, Magnus up against the doorframe to the balcony, Toki leaning back against the lounge chair he’d pulled up closer, just opposite of Magnus.

“Don’t just hold it and let it burn.” Magnus plucked the blunt from Toki’s fingers and took another drag for himself. “I don’t know if I’ll have the chance to get more.”

“You deals drugs. You’ll probablies finds more.”

“Yeah… I guess.”

The silence, perhaps lasting only a matter of seconds, dragged on too long for Toki and his curiosity got the best of him.

“Bys the ways… How ams that all goings, anyways?” He looked up at Magnus from the carpet he had been idly examining, but Magnus was only staring out at the city below, elbow propped on a raised knee. He slowly released his breath, blowing the smoke out the door only to be quickly stolen by the wind again.

“It’s going…” Magnus handed the blunt back to Toki, resting his head on his own shoulder. The exhaustion in his eyes had only been amplified by the high. “It’s really not as bad as I thought it’d be… That guy, John. Or Exec, or whatever. He’s fuckin’ obnoxious as hell, doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up, gets all holier than thou…but he’s not too bad. Hate that name though. _Exec_. What kind of shit do you have to be on…”

“I don’ts know… It’s betters than Kevins,” Toki shot back with a sly smile.

“Kevin’s…? Kevin’s what?”

“Uh,” Toki took a moment to try to figure out what Magnus wasn’t understanding. “You knows. The fake names you gaves him.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? I just gave him one name.”

“Yeah! You knows!” Toki tried not to get worked up. His joke had already been ruined. “Whats was that one names?”

“Dev-? Oh, _asshole_. Devin? Is that what you meant?” Magnus’ glare was as sharp as the drafts that kept cutting into the room. “That’s a cool fucking name, inspired by a cool fucking guy. You can’t just shit on Devin T-”

“You don’ts looks like a Devins at alls,” Toki challenged, fighting off an unnecessary smile.

“Oh, and I suppose you can come up with better shit while on the spot?”

“Yeah, I bets I cans!”

“Okay,” Magnus offered, adjusting his position to look directly at Toki. “Show me what you got.”

“Uh…”

“I’m waiting. I’ve got a gun on me and I’m waiting for your name.”

“T-”

“-and you’ve already failed.” Magnus rolled his eyes and took another hit, this time blowing the smoke towards Toki’s face in condemnation.

“No! I was goings somewheres with that-”

“Sure.”

“T-…Uh… To-” Toki struggled to regain his footing. Magnus had made him lose his train of thought, obviously.

“I swear to god if you say ‘Toki.’”

“-Tommy!” Thats was it!

Magnus could only stare back at him through half lidded, completely done eyes. _“Tommy.”_

“I thinks it suits me... Maybes I was a Tommy in another lifes.”

“So your _fake name_ starts and ends with the same sounds as your _real name_. _Real_ clever. Very concealing. I think you may have been better off just telling everyone your name’s ‘Tokarooni’ again…”

“Magnus…” A new idea was coming to him.

“Christ, what?”

“I gots it… M… Ma-”

“Oh my god. Don’t.”

“Ma- A-ha! _Marc!”_ He nearly jumped to his feet in his pride. An absolute stroke of brilliance, twice in a row. He was on a roll.

“Wow.” Magnus’ enthusiasm was beyond measure. He took another drag off the blunt, shaking his heavy head. “Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever had to deal with anyone as stupid and ridiculous as you?”

“Oh come ons… You don’ts know ridiculous.”

“Of course I fucking do. I’ve been living with you for the past...bunch of fucking weeks.”

“But imagine almost getting eatens… _by a fuckings lake troll_. It was so huge.”

Something Toki said, despite his honesty and seriousness, must have pushed Magnus over the line because, for some reason, he started to _laugh._ It was a laugh completely unlike the usual dark or sarcastic laugh that he typically coupled with a sneer when ridiculing something. Toki couldn’t describe it as anything other than something genuine, something _honest_ , something Toki previously hadn’t even thought existed. Completely captivated by it, he could only gawk, his face certainly a stupid, glassy-eyed mask as his brain swam in a mix of the haze and the flash of times before, the only other times Magnus had ever laughed in a way that even seemed remotely similar to this. Maybe it was just the weed, but those times were now, in retrospect, so clearly fake compared to _this._

“Oh god…” He was still laughing, completely incredulous. “A lake troll. Seriously.”

“Wh-” Toki had almost forgotten why Magnus been laughing at all. “Yeah... Seriouslies…”

_“Seriously.”_

“Yes!” Toki perked up as he realized he’d never actually told anyone about the experience before. “I means, it lookeds more likes a demons than a trolls but… It ate Nathan’s phones and I thinks the spikes exploded it, but reallies!”

“Okay, that’s enough for you and your wild imagination,” Magnus smirked, shaking his head and snuffing the joint out on the concrete of the balcony. “It’s getting late anyway.”

“You probablies got somethings I wouldn’t believes too!” Toki shot back, not about to let the night end with only him looking like a high idiot. Magnus had had his own time with the band. Surely they’d had some kind of interesting experiences back then too.

“Nothing half as exciting as lake troll-demons eating cellphones and fucking exploding.”

“Think of somethings.”

“Uh…” Magnus’ gaze drifted off to the floor, then to the wall, then the ceiling as he racked his muddled brain. “I dunno. I think I can cook alright. At least, I could the last time I tried…years ago…”

“Oh.” Not the answer he was hoping for but… “Yeahs, I should have knowns. You were always pretties good with a knifes.” Toki monitored Magnus’ face as it slowly fell. Still feeling feisty, Toki only took it as a sign to continue. “You knows when I first mets you, I thoughts you were such a knife guy.”

 _“Stop.”_ It was a desperate plea. But, ultimately, futile.

“Maybes you were tryings to make a _point_.”

“Seriously, cut it out.”

Toki was instantly rendered speechless, completely unable to respond in any other way as his smile stretched from ear to ear while the desperation on Magnus face fell into absolute and total despair as he realized what he’d unintentionally said.

A few moments passed without a word, and Magnus finally stood and closed the balcony door. “I’m going to sleep.” He slipped off into the bathroom, leaving Toki to stifle his cackling against his pillow. It felt so good to laugh again, even if he had to be high and turn his own suffering into jokes to get it all out. He wondered if Magnus felt the same way, but he could tell that even high, Magnus had a limit to Toki’s childishness. Still, Toki fought to restrain himself as they settled for the night, but within a minute of Magnus turning out the lamp, Toki could not bear to stay silent.

“Hey Magnus?”

 _“What.”_ His voice sliced through the darkness.

“…Good knife.”

There was a whoosh of air and a sudden, loud crash directly to Toki’s side. The surprise would have sent him flying out of his chair if he hadn’t been so high, but instead he looked down calmly, his mouth covered as he silenced his snickering. Magnus had thrown his pillow in his direction only to barely miss and hit the blinds to the balcony. Tears burned at his eyes and suddenly Toki couldn’t hold it back any longer. He erupted into laughter so hard he triggered another coughing fit that took several minutes and a glass of water to pacify.

Magnus didn’t bring weed home again -

 

\- but the high had evidently reminded Magnus of the joy of not being sober. It only took two days for Magnus to bring back alcohol instead, and unfortunately, he didn’t like to waste money on weak shit. The less he had to drink to feel something, the better, he’d explained when he unbagged two bottles of cheap, hard liquor. Though exhaustion had continued to take its toll on him, Magnus seemed rather enthused for his first frivolous purchase. The cashier had apparently not bothered to check his ID, making the process even better. And while Toki wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of spending money on such impractical things and certainly secretly feared a drunken Magnus, the temptation was too great and his opinion on the matter was quickly swayed by a couple of shots. At first he was excited to escape sobriety, but unlike their time with the blunt, a heavy gloom fell over the room, feeding it a different atmosphere entirely.

Magnus had taken his first round of shots and seemed content with just sitting in the bed and watching the TV vacantly. With Toki watching from the small table, too drunk already to keep his head from resting in his arms against the table, it felt more like they were both sitting at a bar in a dismal and depressed silence, stewing over thoughts of self-pity.

“Change it,” Magnus suddenly commanded, but his voice wasn’t exactly firm.

Toki had been so lost in thought, he couldn’t quite parse the meaning. “Huh?”

“Change it. You have the remote.”

“Oh…” Toki lifted his head to see the remote had been sitting next to his head on the table. He’d completely forgotten it was there. “What’s wrongs with what’s on?” He’d grown invested in the romantic drama between the two main characters, before he’d zoned out, at least.

“I hate this mushy shit.”

Toki gave Magnus an unimpressed hum as he began surfing the channels for something more in line with his taste. In recent days Magnus had been well-behaved and reasonable, and since he hadn’t killed Toki the night he’d assaulted him with puns, Toki figured he could hazard pushing the line a little further. “Whats, you too cools for normals relationships?”

“Don’t give me that shit,” Magnus shot back, forsaking his pathetic paper cup and lifting the entire bottle of cheap alcohol to his mouth.

 “No, reallies,” Toki pushed, growing bolder. “In your whole lifes, you never had feelings what are normal for someones?” He humored the scenarios, both equally impossible to imagine, when a sudden slam all but sent him flying to his feet.  Before he could even begin to prepare for the worst, Magnus erupted into a drunk, maniacal laughter, gripping his temples with a hand after he’d slammed the bottle down on the nightstand. Toki gaped, his heart pounding in his throat, and slowly lowered himself down to his seat once more. His legs felt like gelatin.

 _“Shit,_ normal feelings? Well, fuck me, we’re going to die anyway, so I may as well admit that there were, what, maybe – two? – in my whole godforsaken life. But the first one was a complete _joke_ and the second was a complete disaster. But I guess they were pretty _normal_.” He gave a venomous sneer at the last word, leaning back against the headboard of the bed.

Relief washed over Toki like wave after wave, immeasurably glad he hadn’t caused Magnus to snap from idiotic pressing, but the alcohol kept him rambling in his nervousness. “C-can I hears about the jokes one?” It must’ve been the more lighthearted story of the two.

“Fuck no.”

Though he should have been expecting such a quick and blunt refusal, it only served to make Toki feel stupider.

“But I’ll give you one guess about who the disaster was.”

Caught off guard, Toki glanced about the room nervously as he tried to fish up even a single name, but nothing came to mind. How was he supposed to be expected to know something so random?

“Here’s a hint. We both know him.”

Toki pursed his lips and jogging his memory for any mutual friendships, only to lower his head back down to the table. It was probably impossible to think of someone while sober since Toki was quite certain Magnus didn’t even had any friends, and he was way too drunk now for guessing games. He wished he’d never brought the topic up. “I dunnos…”

“Come on. We only share so many acquaintances.”

 “Uh…” Someone they both knew…that Magnus had a history with…that wasn’t exactly a friend… “Was it…” The gears were slowly turning…and then- “Oh! Oh my god was it _Nathans?”_

“No, you fucking idiot.”

“Wait, was it-”

“I said one guess.”

“Was it Mur-”

“-you do not want to finish that sentence.” Magnus’ voice was suddenly dark, all traces of the earlier entertainment wiped from his now dead-serious face. “You couldn’t pay me all of Dethklok’s fortune four times over to sleep with _him.”_

“You slepts with…?” Toki now frantically cycled through the rest of Dethklok as Magnus rolled his eyes, and finally, it all fell into place.

“Skwisgaar?!” The name erupted from him without permission. “You-? H-he _does_ likes guys?”

“What? You didn’t know? That absolute dog would fuck anything with a pulse, he just kept it from the band. Jesus fuck, I thought you were sleeping with him.”

Toki felt his face flush even redder as he shook his head violently. “N-no, no I nevers- _He_ nevers…’

“Oh. Huh.” Magnus reached over and took another swig from the bottle, staring off at the TV.

That was all he had to say for himself? While Toki was just sitting there on the cusp of fainting? All this time he’d been right about Skwisgaar? But Skwisgaar had never made a single advance on _him_. Had he just been as unsure about Toki as Toki had been about him? Or maybe he knew about Toki’s feelings but didn’t reciprocate? If he’d fuck anything with a pulse, maybe he really did simply hate Toki _that_ much. Or maybe…maybe he wasn’t like that anymore? He’d never seen Skwisgaar with men himself. Maybe it’d just been a phase with…with Magnus…  Toki felt his stomach lurch.

“I don’t give half a fuck about it or him now, but I guess that’s another reason why I hated you so much,” Magnus added, and said nothing more.

Toki couldn’t understand. His brain outright refused to acknowledge his disclosure. He’d made peace with his unreciprocated, stupid feelings long ago and let the issue die completely. It was only during his two months of subjugation where he found himself unburying them in desperation, grasping for an imaginary shred of happiness to delude himself out of reality. But he’d had plenty of time to forget about _that_ and instead turned to resenting Skwisgaar with every fiber of his being. So why did he feel so…upset? There was movement at the bed as Magnus attempted to stand. He lifted the bottle from the nightstand and, to the best of his ability, made his way to Toki’s side, roughly placing the liquor on his table.

“Y’need it more than me, and I’m already in for a bad time in the morning,” Magnus clearly struggled to keep his words comprehensible, “so you finish it. Just gonna buy more tomorrow anyway.” He sauntered back to the bed in a less-than-straight line and threw himself into it, clutching his head with closed eyes. “Just don’t get messy ‘cause I’m gonna be gone in fuckin’…two minutes.”

“Thanks…” Toki muttered, garnering only a half-grunt, half-sigh in response. He glanced down at the bottle, his mind relatively blank, before he caved in and finished the remains in a rapid succession of shots. Just as he’d predicted, Magnus was already out cold, not stirring even as Toki choked violently on the burn of the alcohol. Resting the bottle on the floor to avoid knocking it over later, Toki folded his arms on the table again and nested his head in them, heavy-lidded eyes locked on to the TV.

Maybe it was stupid of him to still be reeling from the revelation, he thought to himself as the room spun around him, but it still felt like something had been taken from him even though he knew he’d never had it to begin with. It must’ve been only a fraction of what Magnus felt when he’d seen just how thoroughly he’d been replaced.

Toki let his eyes close. He didn’t feel too well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this may be obvious to some, but i think its important to note that the names tommy and marc are not random and are very much indeed references to tommy blacha and marc maron, toki and magnus' voice actors respectively.
> 
> ALSO if you're interested in knowing a little more about the first person magnus ever liked (the "complete joke") please check out the side story I posted called "the making of monsters"!!


	21. Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey does anyone still care about this fic

“I’m never going out with a hangover that bad again.”

Though Toki heard the door open behind him and Magnus speak to him, he didn’t move a muscle. Cheek planted against the cold glass of the balcony door, his eyes only fluttered open in response to Magnus’ complaints.

“Had to run off behind some dumpster to puke before I could even make it past a few blocks from here.” Magnus collapsed on top of the bed, draping an arm lazily over his right eye.

Toki could only respond with a short groan to show his pity.

“But somehow we finished all the booze.”

That was enough to get Toki to speak. He laughed dully, not bothering to lean off the glass. “I don’tsh thinksh we needsh more boozsh…” He never imagined he’d say these words in his life, ever, but after five months without a drop of alcohol, it was hitting his body like a car speeding into a brick wall.

“Says the one who can drink me under the table. We can pick some up more up later if you want to pick something yourself.”

“We? Shince whens?” That was new. Maybe Magnus had just misspoken.

“I’ve been losing track of my days too lately, but it’s Christmas Eve. Only realized while I was out there. The crowds are ridiculous, so…”

“Ishn’t that bad?”

“I figured they’d all be too busy to pay attention… You wanna get out, right?”

Toki finally straightened out, moving from the glass and looking at Magnus who still had his eye covered. “I don’ts know…”

 “Then what if we picked up something more essential.”

“Like whats.” Toki turned in his chair and leant back against the glass, the cold seeping in against his spine.

“I told you when we first got here we could go get some things. Lots of shit’s on sale right now. I can’t argue with saving money and you could use some clothes that entirely yours and don’t look like you dug them out of a dumpster. Though I don’t look much better, if I have to be honest.”

“You wants to go…shopping?” Toki was ready to do nearly anything if it meant getting out of the hotel but he actually enjoyed shopping…when he had money, at least.

“I mean we can stay here if you want.”

“And I gets to go with you?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“I wants to go.”

“Then take a shower. I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute…”

Ignoring his pounding head and upset stomach, Toki hurried off to the bathroom, excited for a chance to actually go beyond their balcony. Spending money on new clothes had been right next to getting drunk at on the agenda – at the absolute bottom - not all that long ago, but now it seemed they were in a stable enough position to allow both. He showered as quickly as his hangover would allow him, but when he stepped back out into the room, he noticed Magnus hadn’t moved an inch since he left.

 _“…Magnus.”_ He tried to raise his voice, but the word came out soft instead. Toki’s spirits sank ever so slightly as he circled around the bed to retreat to his chair by the balcony door. As he watched Magnus’ chest rise and fall slowly and steadily, as he realized this was the most still and peaceful he’d seen him, Toki realized he couldn’t bring himself to wake him. It had to be stressful, to put it simply, to work with heroin and other drugs day in and day out, drugs that no doubt called to him every time he saw them, touched them, every time he had to watch others shoot up… It had to be harrowing. It really was a miracle Magnus hadn’t caved under the pressure and fallen prey to “just one hit.” Toki’s eyes trailed from his half covered face to the sleeves of his shirt. Even when the motel rooms had been hot and stuffy, no matter if he was going to sleep for the night or coming out of the bathroom after a shower, Magnus only ever unbuttoned his shirt but never took it off. Even after confessing his past relationship with heroin and revealing the damage and scars, that night had been the only time Toki had ever seen Magnus’ arms. He could of course relate. It had taken some time, but the band had given him the confidence to not worry about others seeing the scars on his back. But things were different now, and despite Magnus obviously working hard to show his goodwill, Toki knew his scars and bruises intrigued him. And the time Magnus had last shown _interest_ in them…

Leaning forward and resting his temple against the side of his chair, Toki felt his own eyes grow heavy as they moved back to Magnus’ sleeping face. He didn’t like to recall that night. But at the very least, something had changed in Magnus recently, without a doubt. But Toki couldn’t pinpoint why exactly he had calmed, if calm was what he could call it. Perhaps being constantly on edge had completely exhausted him. Or maybe it was their relative safety and the relief of having secured Toki’s medicine. With that in mind, Toki couldn’t help but wonder how the job was going overall, and how much longer Magnus wanted to stay in the city.

He closed his eyes slowly, overcome with drowsiness. His head was killing him and thinking too much about pointless things only made it worse. Nothing made sense, after all. Magnus had thrown a huge fit about Toki wanting to stay in the city with the homeless people, and yet here they remained. How quick he had been to change his mind after such a dramatic reaction. A quiet, dry laugh escaped Toki’s lips as he felt himself begin to drift off. If he hadn’t known better, he’d almost say Magnus, at the time, had just been…

“Toki.”

Stirring awake at the sound of his name being called, Toki’s eyes fluttered open. The room had suddenly gone dark. Magnus sat at the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to flush the weariness from his head.

“Did you take a shower?”

“Yeah,” Toki said, glancing out the dark window and running a hand through his hair. It was already dry. “What times is it?”

“Almost six. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Toki averted his gaze in embarrassment as he remembered just _how_ he’d dozed off. He didn’t know which explanation was worse: admitting he’d been too afraid to wake him, or that he’d nodded off while watching Magnus sleep. “I fell asleeps too…” He’d just leave it at that.

“Do you still want to go? Most places are probably closed or closing but… I mean, I feel a little better, at any rate.”

He certainly didn’t look much better, but Toki took his word for it. Though his stomach felt far from fantastic, his own nap had eased the headache considerably. Not eating much of anything all day had more than likely been to blame for most of his ails at this point. “If it’s still okays…”

“I wouldn’t be offering if it wasn’t.” Magnus rose with a stretch, making his way to the bathroom. “Get ready.”

Toki all but shot to his feet, rushing to layer up. Magnus, already fully dressed from earlier, exited the bathroom after washing his face and withdrew his wallet from his pocket as he waited by the doorway. He quickly counted the wad of bills haphazardly shoved into the fold before pocketing it again.

“We can’t spend too much, but there are some exceptions,” Magnus noted pointedly as Toki pulled on the worn boots Magnus had given him in his apartment. Meant to be thrown out back then, they now looked like they’d disintegrate if someone so much as glanced at them.

Toki held back a sheepish smile as he stood and followed Magnus out the door and down the quiet hallway, his excitement nearly palpable, but once the night air whipped into him, he couldn’t resist grinning from ear to ear. The café across from the hotel was still open, lit up to the nines in Christmas lights. Though the patio doors were closed to keep the heat in, he could still hear the music, music he recognized as Christmas music too, emanating from inside. Feeling childish, Toki pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head, hoping to shroud his embarrassing thrill from the ever straight-faced and apathetic Magnus at his side.

Blending into the crowds was easier than expected. Everyone had their hoods or hats on as well, faces half buried into scarves and eyes plastered on the windows of shops or the long lists in their gloved hands. While many stores were closed, just as many threw morals out the door in exchange for good old American capitalism, allowing Toki and Magnus more options than they had time to peruse. Hopping from store to store, they bought what they needed, and though they didn’t waste time trying things on besides Toki’s new boots, Toki knew his new clothes would finally have a more flattering fit.

They met their budget sooner than he’d have liked, but the exhilaration still wouldn’t fade. Even Magnus’ complete and total lack of enthusiasm couldn’t bring him down. Toki didn’t think the night couldn’t have been much better until Magnus suggested grabbing a quick meal from somewhere before everything finally closed for the night. When Toki suggested the café across their hotel and Magnus agreed, he had to actively keep himself from bouncing the whole way there. Though the live band only had two songs left for the night by the time they sat down, every second of their performance had Toki enraptured. It didn’t matter that they were playing their own “original” take on Christmas music - seeing guitars and amps, even the drumkit, so _close_ struck him with a wave of nostalgia and the thirst to play again. Wondering if Magnus felt the same way, he glanced over at him through the corner of his eyes, but Magnus seemed to be tolerating it at best, perhaps due in part to his mind looking to be elsewhere entirely.

When the waitress brought their orders out, and Magnus, as always, only sipped away at a cup of coffee, Toki realized Magnus probably hadn’t eaten anything all day.

“Not hungrys?”

“Still a little nauseated.”

Toki didn’t doubt that he was, but he knew it was just an excuse. “Has it always beens like this?”

Magnus’ eyes narrowed slightly before looking off to the side, almost embarrassed for being called out on his problem. “When I was younger…” he muttered. “I thought I was over it for a long time until the, uh…addiction.”

“Coulds you eat if I closeds my eyes?”

Magnus stared blankly at Toki, his expression alone informing him that the question that he thought had been a very good question, had, in fact, been a very dumb one. “Just finish so we can leave already.”

Toki tried to focus on his meal, but his mind kept running wild with thoughts and observations. Despite their massive dysfunctions, sitting together in a café on Christmas Eve, eating a real meal that wasn’t dripping in grease or made entirely of granola, shopping bags full of the spoils of the night… It felt…good. Toki couldn’t remember the last time he felt so… _normal._ It wasn’t even the kind of “back-to-living-an-incredible-Dethklok-lifestyle” type of normal. For one short night, he’d felt just as normal as everyone else. Only ever having lived in two extremes, it was something he’d never had the chance to experience. He wondered if Magnus, who had spent his whole life trying so hard _not_ to be normal, now craved the normalcy, too.

The waitress came by, dropping off the receipt and reminding them of the hour. Toki felt a pang of guilt as Magnus paid with what little remained in his wallet, but Magnus offered neither objection nor complaint as they stood to leave. In the short time they were inside, the city had grown quieter as the last shops closed and people retreated to the warmth of their homes. The sudden stillness and emptiness caused Toki to grow hyperaware of Magnus’ presence at his left. Even upon returning to the room and settling down for the night, he couldn’t shake the feeling. It was when the TV turned on and the lights turned off that Toki realized he’d been forgetting something important.

“Thank you for todays…by the ways…”

“I told you not to thank me.”

“Well, I wants to. So, thanks.”

Magnus only gave a disgruntled grunt in response and said no more. Satisfied enough with that, Toki snuggled up in his blankets, leant back in his chair and inhaled and exhaled slowly. He had expected that expressing his gratitude and squaring away some of the guilt would put an end to that lingering feeling that had instilled itself in his chest. But relief from the weight never came.

And then, like a dream, the brief taste of freedom and fun had ended. Toki knew that once he fell asleep, his days would resume their scheduled tedium. When he woke to an empty room, their new purchases still sitting in their bags, untouched, snow falling just outside the windows and coating the Christmas morning with a bright, soft blanket, Toki didn’t think he could feel lonelier.

And life would continue to prove him wrong.

 

* * *

 

Magnus returned that evening with a cellphone, and Toki quickly came to learn that another night like Christmas Eve would more than likely never happen again. When he inquired about the phone’s sudden appearance, Magnus reminded Toki of the night Exec had briefed them on the details of the job. He’d offered a prepaid cellphone to Magnus at the time, but Magnus hadn’t yet been sold on the idea. But blowing their little income in a single night brought him to the realization that in order to survive more efficiently, he needed more contacts. Although it seemed too good to be true, the phone had once belonged to a previous drug runner and still contained contact info for a number of still-active clients. Already invaluable with just contacts alone, it also served to streamline communication between Magnus and Exec himself, eliminating the need to waste time meeting up with him. It was without a doubt the most useful thing they’d acquired since the heroin itself, bringing Magnus more business – and income - across the days, but subsequently keeping him out longer and even leaving again after he’d returned for the night, all for the sake of a quick and easy sale.

Because his presence had become so rare, Toki’s attention often fell upon Magnus whenever he was around. When the quiet was all too deafening, Toki would initiate conversations that almost always ended up stilted and brief. After a few days of little success, Toki gave up talking in exchange for the guilty pleasure of simply watching in secret. Sometimes he would catch Magnus lying in bed with both eyes closed, unaware of Toki’s observation, only to open his left eye slowly. Oftentimes the slightest, faintest sigh would escape his lips as he stared up at nothing. Toki wondered if he did so out of the hope that maybe he could see through it again, that it had all just been a dream. Or perhaps it was to remind himself of his reality, so that he would never forget that it was punishment well deserved.

 

* * *

 

The days grinded out slowly until New Year’s Eve arrived and Magnus surprised Toki by returning early with a paper bag and a devilish smile. He’d brought a bottle of vodka and whiskey each, more than enough to get them through the night and into the new year. And if he wasn’t shocked enough, when Magnus revealed that he’d ordered pizza to be delivered and picked up at hotel lobby, Toki wasn’t sure how to react. Up until Magnus actually returned to the room with an honest-to-God box of pizza, Toki had suspected it all to be an elaborate prank.

But there they sat, Toki inhaling the pizza Magnus ignored, their paper hotel cups filled with off-tasting hotel ice and quality booze. The TV was on and both watched it in silence, and though Toki couldn’t be sure if Magnus was actually paying attention, he couldn’t care less. He felt content, similar to the peacefulness he felt on Christmas Eve, but if little moments like these kept happening, Toki decided, he wouldn’t bother wishing for something as big.

“God, I don’t know how you do it.” Magnus suddenly groaned, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels without warning. “There’s never anything good on.”

Toki laughed, not particularly invested in what they’d had on. “There’s a series I sometimes watch. It’s okays, but anything is better than sleeping outsides, even being bored enoughs to watch commercials for funs.”

“You watch commercials for fun?” Magnus sighed, sipping sparingly at his drink. They’d promised only one drink until the ball dropped. _Then_ they would have at it. “Trust me, I wish there was an alternative.”

They both fell quiet as Magnus idly channel surfed until he landed on a news station discussing their live broadcast. He lingered on it a moment, and Toki couldn’t help but speak.

 “Do you thinks we’ll makes it to see another one of these?”

“Let’s just try to make it out of winter first…”

“If we do…will be still be in this cities by then?”

Magnus sighed, shaking his head slightly with a shrug. “I don’t know. We need to keep moving but, I just…don’t know. Even if we saved enough that we can live off for a while, just having the money isn’t enough. Starting all over, just somewhere else? Insulin won’t fall into our laps again, that I can guarantee.”

“What if…” Toki trailed off, suddenly unsure of his question.

“What?”

He hesitated, but continued. “What if we just…stayed heres, doings this. Until he comes for us.”

Magnus’ almost shaken gaze met Toki’s, perhaps gauging if he was serious. Then he fell quiet and absolutely motionless. “I don’t think…” His eyes fell to his lap. “…I would mind.”

Toki’s heart skipped a beat at Magnus’ unprecedented softness and his willingness to give in. Perhaps to make himself feel better, he had asked the question, so sure was he that Magnus would tell him to shut it and not even dream of giving up.

“As long as-”

A ringtone cut the air and Toki’s heart sank. Magnus’ expression hardened as he picked it up, standing and pacing away from the table. Exec’s unmistakable voice tore through the receiver, speaking too quickly for Toki to understand beyond his obvious excitement. Toki hung his head, pressing his forehead against the back of the lounge chair so Magnus couldn’t see his disappointment. The call ended as soon as it had begun. A heavy silence fell, somehow masking the energetic commercial playing on the television, and then he heard Magnus give a reluctant sigh.

“I have to go.”

Toki looked up, feigning disinterest, and nodded.

“It’s a really big order. Huge, actually. There’s a New Year’s party. He really isn’t giving me much choice. Commission will be great though.”

“That’s good,” Toki replied meekly.

“I should be back before midnight. Just wait like usual. And even if I’m not back by then, go ahead and drink without me.” Leaving his cup on the nightstand, Magnus gathered up all he needed and slipped out, leaving Toki to the empty room and stripping him of his positive mood.

Toki closed his eyes and took a deep breath and did what he did best: wait.

 

* * *

 

It was hard to imagine how he’d been calm and at ease such a short while ago. Sitting at the foot of the bed, a hand clasped to his chest, feeling his heart beat through tingly fingertips, trying to will it to slow all while he attempted to focus on the TV to keep his mind off his anxiety. But intrusive thought after thought pervaded his mind. This was it. This was how he would spend his last New Year’s alive. Alone. Terrified for no immediate reason. When Magnus was there, he’d felt content with his fate.

_“I don’t think…I would mind.”_

Though he’d been searching for more hope, hearing these words come from Magnus himself had been almost as pacifying. It meant he wouldn’t be facing everything alone.

Cheering and laughter from the TV brought him out of his head again. His eyes flashed up to meet the glowing countdown numbers on the screen. Thirty minutes to midnight. People furiously waved towards the panning camera, their grins spilling out from the sides of their scarves. Exhaling suddenly and standing, Toki grabbed the first bottle of vodka. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d greeted the new year sober and he would be damned if he’d be of sound enough mind to greet his last one at all.

 

* * *

 

If the TV had shown that the ball had dropped, that the countdown had hit zero and the couples in the square had kissed and cheered, Toki hadn’t known. Sprawled on his back in the bed, pillow over his face, the first vodka bottle he’d emptied resting loosely in a hand at his side. The other sat fallen on the floor, what little that remained in the neck of the bottle dripping slowly on the carpet. The TV still on and turned up a touch too loudly, buzzed with all the unimportant after-party commercials, though Toki could not hear anything through his near-comatose unconsciousness. Even when Magnus returned, peeling the bottle from his hands and retrieving the bottle on the floor with a laugh, telling Toki that he could have saved some for him, Toki did not stir. Even when Magnus stepped into the bathroom to wash up, dropping his belt and knife on the countertop with a sharp _clink,_ then settling down in the bed on his usual side, Toki didn’t move or react.

The only thing that shook him from his intoxicated sleep was the nausea. Even hours after he’d finished the second bottle, Toki was still completely hammered. Sitting up and looking to his side, he couldn’t fully process Magnus’ presence. But he had more urgent matters to deal with than ponder if he’d actually returned at all. Stumbling out of bed and rushing to the toilet, he tripped over his own feet, just barely managing to catch himself before smashing his mouth against the porcelain. Lifting himself up just in time, he let his body try to rid itself of the only thing in his stomach, eyes closed and head spinning. He didn’t know how long he sat there fading in and out, arms framed around the toilet seat and head resting against his inner elbow, just waiting for the nausea and burning to subside. When enough time had passed without any further heaving, he finally pulled himself to his feet. After rinsing out his mouth and flushing his with cold water, he groped around the countertop in search of the towel, but instead his hand met something cold and metal, unintentionally knocking it to the floor. Wiping at his eyes with his forearm, he looked down at the knife on the tile and slowly squatted down to pick it up and return it to the counter – next to the belt he also hadn’t noticed before. Water dripped from the hair sticking to the edges of his face, down his chin, and he returned his weary gaze to the mirror. Though he could barely stand, his own sallow face kept him locked in place.

And then, a single thought bore its way into his previously empty head and erupted into a tidal wave.

_What was wrong with him?_

Why was he still here when he could just…go back to the band? Even if they didn’t want him back, wouldn’t they at least help him find a way to keep him from starving or freezing? And what if…what if they _did_ take him back? Wouldn’t most of this nightmare come to an end? Could it really be that easy? He cast a look over his shoulder, peering past the doorway of the bathroom. Magnus was there. He hadn’t been imagining it. What would the band do with him if he went with Toki seeking safety? Would his pride even allow him to go and beg for his life after everything he’d done? Would Skwisgaar pity either of them? Suddenly, Toki was reminded of what Magnus had told him – that he and Skwisgaar had been secretly seeing each other – and his face twisted into a snarl, turning back to the mirror with a lip curling sneer.

Fuck the band. Fuck Skwisgaar. Fuck Skwisgaar. In that moment, Toki hated him more than anything, more than Magnus, more than the Assassin - Skwisgaar had left him and Magnus both to suffer alone after using them to fuel his own ego. And he’d do it again if they came back. Skwisgaar had taken everything from him, from petty things like his spot in the limelight to his time and feelings, and now he had discovered that his defiling touch had even extended to Magnus, something Toki had begun to feel…was his and his alone. No one knew Magnus like Toki did. Had Skwisgaar ever broken down his walls like he had?  Had anyone ever seen the darkest reaches of his heart in full, violent, unadulterated force other than Toki? Magnus told him things no one else knew. It didn’t matter that he only did so because he had nothing better to do. No one could claim Magnus the way Toki could. So why did Skwisgaar have to be there? What had Skwisgaar had that Toki didn’t?

_Oh._

It hit him.

Gripping the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles flushed white, Toki glared himself down. He hadn’t been jealous of Magnus for garnering the attention from Skwisgaar that he could never have. He was jealous of Skwisgaar. Toki had to clasp a hand over his mouth as he stifled an exuberant cackle the realization had triggered. So that was what it was. The liberation he felt was so intense there was no room for denial. His knees and elbows felt so weak from the alcohol and exhaustion but Toki remained standing over the sink, looking over himself in the mirror. What could he have that Skwisgaar didn’t?

Heavy eyes fell to his neck and his heart skipped a beat.

Drunk out of his fucking mind, Toki’s imagination took hold. In vivid form, the way his imagination had been before trauma had dulled it, fingers trailed through freshly cut hair, tucking it back behind his ear. His stomach dropped, but not from the nausea, and he froze in place, completely immobilized by the touch. And just as suddenly, lips were on his throat, ghosting the red and purple bruises that he once had.  
  
"Maybe we should have kept it long until these went away..." Magnus would have said as his lips traced along Toki's throat, his jugular, then to the nape of his neck. His beard tickled against Toki's collarbone and goosebumps rose all over his body in response. When he swallowed hard, he felt the lips upon his throat smile faintly against his skin.

Toki reached up to touch his neck and the phantom of his mind disappeared, leaving him with a bare neck. The bruises were long gone and his hair had grown too long in the recent weeks. Perhaps he could fix it, he thought, as he wrapped his fingers around his throat and squeezed, but feeling his own pulse pounding away under his grip and barely able to even stand, he realized his hands alone couldn’t do it. Half conscious and inebriated, he was just too weak. Dropping his hand to the counter to keep himself standing, his hand brushed against something. As he lifted it up, excitement slowly flooded his hazy mind. Magnus’ belt had been there all along, almost as if it had known it would be needed. Toki took it into both hands, losing his balance in the process and falling back against the wall behind him. Sliding down to the floor, he gave himself a crooked smile, knowing full well Magnus would be mad at him for touching his things.

He dared him now to come into the bathroom and catch him mid-asphyxiation as he wrapped the belt around his neck and, with some effort, finally got the end through the belt loop and pulled it taut. It was perfect, he thought, and the more he began to involuntarily panic, the harder he pulled the belt. Even through the drunken euphoria, he felt the sharp pinch of skin at his neck, his numb face flushing hot and red. A pressure was building behind his eyes as his heart pumped furiously to no avail. Head hitting the wall and body tensing up, he couldn’t see and he couldn’t breathe…but there was a rush of color behind his eyelids and suddenly he felt transported, taken back to that dark basement, where Magnus’ fingers wrapped around his neck leaving him unable to breathe, unable to think, unable to beg for death…Back then, Magnus wanted him for something. Magnus needed him for something. In the beginning, Magnus paid attention to him.

_Come find me, come yell at me for touching your things, come acknowledge me-_

But Magnus never came, and Toki’s eyes rolled up, his grip loosened slowly, and his arms finally fell limp at his side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a messy, messy chapter. barely proofread and kinda just spliced together just to get something out. anyway, regardless, thank you everyone who has stuck with me through this insane hiatus. will the next chapter take this long? i have no idea. lets hope not.


	22. Fallout

Before consciousness - before any other sensation - came pain. Nothing had stirred Toki from unconsciousness but the agony pulsating throughout every part of his body. And even after pain began to register, waking came slowly. Before he remembered how to open his eyes, his head and stomach ached relentlessly, reacquainting him with nausea. And suddenly, his chest grew tight and his body lurched with a panicked, sharp gasp as if he’d just surfaced after drowning. His eyes darted about the room briefly, unable to process a single thing, before just as quickly clenching shut again and letting his body fall limp again. Though his eyes stung, the pain was swallowed up by incredible burning in his throat. Reflexively, he attempted to swallow, but his throat felt constricted and numb, inside and out. Willing his hand to move with every ounce of energy he had left, he touched at his neck to feel for the source of constriction, only for his fingertips to meet a sensation that took a solid minute to register as ‘cold.’

For what felt like hours, Toki remained motionless, fleeting in and out of consciousness as he waited for his faculties to return to him. At first he focused only on bringing oxygen in and out to alleviate the dizziness and come to terms with the pain that simply would not fade, but in time, he built up enough context to understand that he was in a bed, blankets keeping his lower half warm as something terribly cold sat on his throat. Sometimes, he heard a door opening and shutting. Sometimes, he sensed movement at his side, other times he _felt_ it as the cold sensation at his neck disappeared momentarily, only to return but somehow colder.

And then something, a sound, a touch, the presence at his side, he couldn’t be sure, prompted him to force his eyes open. His head pounded, but he could finally understand his surroundings. The room was dim and quiet, the TV off for once, but he was in bed – in _Magnus’_ bed and on _his_ side no less. Alarmed, Toki looked towards his chair by the balcony door only to find it missing. Before panic and confusion could settle in, movement in his peripheral snapped his attention to the right. And there Magnus sat, head suspended in his palm, elbow planted on the arm rest of Toki’s chair. When their gazes locked, Toki felt a deep, dark despair sink through his sore and aching body.

Toki knew he had reason to panic, but he didn’t know what to panic about. Was Magnus mad for taking his spot in the bed? But why did his body scream in protest at the simple act of turning his head? He couldn’t understand what was going on. He barely felt present, but the pain in his throat and the freezing, quiet fury in Magnus’ eyes were both incredibly real. And yet, Magnus’ voice came soft and controlled. He didn’t even move his head from his hand.

“Can you speak?”

He sounded beyond exhausted. It lured Toki into a false sense of calmness, trusting his tone as if there were no reason to be so scared despite his state of being and the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I thinks...”  
  
_“Then are you gonna explain what the fuck that was?”_

Still looking at Magnus, Toki’s jaw fell slightly at the sudden volume and unexpected aggression as it slowly registered that _yes_ , this was happening. He had just been about to ask what was going on before the eruption, but his now stunned silence only served to fan the flames.  
  
_“Answer me!”_ Magnus’s hands slammed on to the bed violently and he was suddenly on his feet, causing Toki to bolt upright, the thin plastic bag of ice falling from his neck to his lap, and recoiling from Magnus’ furious strike. Though his aim had not been Toki, the vibrations from the impact reverberated up the mattress into his body regardless, serving as a taste of what could have been.  
  
“I don’t- I don’t know!” His throat seared with each stifled word but he forced it out, more terrified of Magnus’ rage than the pain.  
  
“You trying to kill yourself?!”

“Wha-”

“I told you already, if you’re sick of me you can fuck off back to your band! Don’t put another fucking death on my hands!”  
  
“I wasn’t-” The image of the belt flashed across his memory and caused Toki pause as his idiotic actions began to return to him piece by piece. He hadn’t been trying to kill himself – had he? As Toki struggled to recall any further useful details, Magnus struggled to restrain his anger. Still leaning over the bed, he viciously exhaled through gritted, bared teeth as his fingers dug into the sheets.

“What was I supposed to do with another dead body, huh?” His volume had lowered to a dark snarl. “Just fucking drop what little _good_ I’ve been working my ass off for, leave you here and get the fuck out of town to start all over? Or maybe you’d have liked for me to keep your corpse in the fucking tub and keep going like usual until the stench of your _rot_ gave me away?”

“I don’t-”

“If you wanted to die so bad, you should have just killed yourself in that _godforsaken fucking basement!”_

Magnus’ words cut like a knife straight to the heart, but Toki could no longer voice his protests. The basement: where he’d received the bruises on his neck…and the attention they’d earned him too. The belt, his imagination, it was finally coming back to him in flashes of lightning. What had he done…? His stupid, foolish plan for more attention had backfired completely. All he could do was hold back the panic as his still-raw throat tempted to shut at any second from the swelling. He wanted to tell Magnus that suicide hadn’t been _why_ at all, that he didn’t want to give up, that he’d never intended on any of this, but how could he ever admit to his true intentions without making matters worse?  
  
Unsatisfied with Toki’s cowering, Magnus huffed out a bitter, short laugh and pushed away from the bed, shaking his head as he retreated towards the door. “I overestimated you.”  
  
“Wait-”

He probably didn’t even hear the weak plea as the door slammed behind him.

In one stupid, _stupid_ drunken attempt to gain approval and attention, Toki had singlehandedly managed to destroy what little progress they had made on their relationship. Every small step they had taken forward had now been reversed ten-fold. Everything Magnus had worked on building could have all been gone in an instant. There was no doubt he felt betrayed.

A wave of nausea and lightheadedness crashed into him. Self-inflicted injury aside, his hangover kept him from even attempting to stand. There was nothing he could do, so he leant back against the headboard and closed his eyes, trying to focus on nothing other than getting oxygen in his lungs and aching brain, but the swelling of his throat made it impossible to breathe deeply.

_What had he done?_

Hot tears bit at his irritated eyes as his lids lifted ever so slightly, blurring gaze cast down to his lap.  
  
The ice had melted.


	23. Faults

Panic and confusion. Powerlessness and helplessness. Magnus didn’t have time to feel anything else until Toki had finally awoken. And then, the moment he allowed a single word to escape, the rest of his emotions had finally caught up in an explosion as always.

Digging his trembling hands into his hair, Magnus now withdrew into himself, knees against his chest. Though he knew he had to remove himself from the room before he said - or did - anything worse, he had nowhere to go, and truthfully, he had no energy to wander far. He’d found himself in a small doorless room down the hall, tucked in the corner between the wall and a vending machine. The hallway was too quiet but he found the mechanical hum of the machine in his ears better than nothing. It filled his head with something other than silence, the red, almost neon, glow of light shining through its plastic front tingeing his pale skin. He took a hand from his hair and balled a fist, about to bite at his thumb again, but the sharp red glow stained his hand from fingertips to palm, bringing him to pause before shoving both hands under his arms and pressing his forehead against a knee.

He’d partially woken at a sound in the bathroom but, too tired, he’d figured nothing of it. Toki was no doubt feeling sick after taking it upon himself to finish their booze.  Magnus cursed himself for not realizing sooner just how much alcohol he had consumed straight, or at the very least waking up then and there to intercept earlier. Instead, he had remained in bed, trying to fall back asleep and wasting precious time. When he’d found that sleep was impossible and Toki still gone, he finally turned over and reached out to feel Toki’s empty spot. The sheets and blankets were perfectly cold without a drop of residual heat left. Alarmed at long it had been, Magnus sat up, looking back to the chair Toki usually slept in only to find it empty as well. Turning his attention to the bathroom, he finally noticed the dim light that spilled from under the door, but before he allowed himself to feel relieved, he sat perfectly still and strained his ears. No sound came from beyond the wall. No shower or faucet or filling toilet tank, not even the nearly imperceptible sound of shifting movement. He was on his feet in seconds, pushing the door open just a little more. He’d called out to no avail, and then his eye accidentally caught side of a form on the floor. Respect for privacy fell to the bottom of his concerns as he pushed the door open and was met with the image of Toki on the floor, hunched over with his back against the wall.

All Magnus could see was the corpse in the kitchen back in his apartment, the body he’d thought he’d forgotten about, its head hanging and body limp and lifeless. Thoughts flew through his brain at a mile a second. Something was tied at Toki’s neck – and again, the image of hanging corpses suspended by their own intestines filled his mind.

Had the Assassin finally-?

Wasting no time to check the doors for forced entrance, Magnus had fallen to his knees at Toki’s side and lifted his head, immediately searching for a pulse the second he’d torn the belt away. His fingertips pressed and searched all along Toki’s swollen neck, but at some point Magnus had lost feeling in his own body. He’d hardly felt real at all as he tried to find any sign of life – and then Toki’s bluing lips parted in a labored wheeze, his eyes fluttering open in a flash of bright red before falling shut just as quickly as they’d opened. Letting out the breath he’d been holding in, Magnus had managed to collect himself enough to carry Toki to the bed. Wetting a towel and carefully covering his throat, Magnus looked back at the door. He needed more than water to reduce the swelling, but before he set out for the ice machine down the hall, he automatically took note of the untouched locks on both doors.

And as he waited by the bedside from the too-early morning hours well past noon, fetching ice as was needed and monitoring the swelling, the panic and fear faded, leaving Magnus only with an excess of emotions that he could not control, emotions that slowly twisted into something grotesque. Had the Assassin done this, or had Toki done it to himself? He no longer knew what situation he wanted to be true. Evidence was stacked against the former, and while it should have put Magnus at rest, it only left him with a single truth: Toki had tried to kill himself.

Wedged between a wall and a vending machine, Magnus curled into himself further and dragged his dulled fingernails against his scalp. A sharp pain cut through his stomach up into his chest like a powerful kick. The day had been good. They had finally begun to understand how to live together in something akin to harmony. He’d gotten a handle on his temper, he thought, and he’d managed to keep his controlling tendencies in check. He’d been forcing himself into situations that ranged from uncomfortable to traumatizing just to ease Toki’s suffering, just to build up any sort of trust again, _anything_ to make it _work_ so that they weren’t just living their last days in a miserable and cold disconnection. And while he slept so deeply for the first time in months, everything he’d done had almost been rendered meaningless. Perhaps it had been meaningless all along. If Toki had acted on a desire he’d begged for long before being liberated from the basement, then it was no doubt he’d been just as miserable with Magnus from start to finish. If so, what had it all been for? Magnus had even kept vigil all night out of the fear that Toki would throw up again and choke on it due to the swelling in his throat. But perhaps he would hate Magnus even more now that he’d prevented him from getting the one thing he wanted most.

Toki may have been drunk when he acted on the desire, but the desire was still there. He, unsurprisingly, still wanted to die. And who wouldn’t, in their situation? In _Toki’s_ situation? How could Magnus blame him at all when he himself, deep inside, had wanted to give up since the beginning? Hell, he’d even gone so far as leaving his knife out while he slept in the hopes that Toki would kill him first. After all, why not have some control over your own death instead of waiting to be eviscerated alive?

And still, Magnus’ mind kept going back to the idea of living – _both_ of them. Perhaps their recent peaceful days pretending like they were semi-normal had spoiled him. He hated everything about his ‘job,’ but the money and security were beyond worth it. It was almost too good to be true. In their situation, he couldn’t even dream of better. Pressing his side against the vending machine as he tried to regulate his breathing, the warmth of the machine bled into his bones. He thought back on the past few weeks, reviewing every little thing he could have done differently so they could have avoided this situation to begin with, but only moments into his reverie, footsteps suddenly shuffled down the carpeted hall. Someone passed by the doorway of the room. Magnus’ eyes followed them until they quickly passed by leaving the red of the vending machine in his sights once again. Blinking, the flash of red called to mind Toki’s eyes when he finally opened them only minutes ago. Bright, solid red patches of burst blood vessels had painted the scleras of both eyes. Magnus had seen this happen to someone only once before, and the vision in the affected eye had been lost forever. Toki hadn’t seemed to have any visual problems…but...

…But Magnus hadn’t exactly given him a chance to speak. He rubbed his temples, shaking his head slightly at himself as something clicked. He didn’t know how Toki was feeling because he hadn’t even asked. Instead, he’d let his words flood him and take control, an instant retaliation in self defense so he could hurt rather than be hurt. And if the things he’d said _hadn’t_ hurt Toki… He let out a shaky sigh, griping his face in his hands, fighting to keep a level head. From the looks of that terrified, honestly confused look on Toki’s face as Magnus lashed into him… He really hadn’t known what he’d done, had he?

They both had wanted answers, but Magnus had acted in such a way that demanded his answers be the priority, and then actively prevented himself from actually receiving them by exploding and refusing to let Toki explain himself. Magnus knew he had never been able to express himself without letting his emotions, corrupted by pride and self-importance along with being perpetually held in, speak for him. As much as he’d tried to talk to Toki in the past few weeks, he’d never known what to say or how to say it. He found silence and action to be easier – because he didn’t know how to speak for himself, he had striven to _show_ Toki that he could change, that he wasn’t who he used to be, that he didn’t hate Toki or see him solely as a burden –  but he’d snapped under pressure and his words had betrayed him. Everything he’d been working for, every ounce of trust he might have built had no doubt been destroyed, just like that. And it was, as always, all his doing.

Another sharp pain cut through his chest and Magnus exhaled, looking up at the ceiling as a hand clutched at his shirt. This was not the time for a panic attack, Magnus told himself, closing his eyes and taking in a slow breath. He had to calm himself. Everything he had done was not yet in vain. No matter the reason, whether he had tried to kill himself or not, Toki was not dead yet. He was still alive and it was now up to Magnus to keep him that way. He had been so caught up in the fear of another dead body on his hands that he’d lost sight of reality.

He had two options. He could stay here to wallow in self-pity and risk Toki’s throat swelling shut, leaving him to die, or he could resume his aid and take control of the situation to the best of his ability. And though it tore him up inside, Magnus knew what he needed to do. He pushed himself to his feet, inhaled slowly, breathed out his anxieties and pride, and began towards the ice machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's not the best it could be but I had to post it. I was in an accident and my car was totaled so chapters, if even posted, may remain short and unedited for a while. we'll just have to see.


	24. End Goals

Bells chimed overhead as Magnus entered the usual building for his trade-offs: a bakery and bar combination that was always open at the most convenient of times for meeting up with his boss, for a begrudgingly lack of a better term. The bar half was classy and ornate, sectioned off by a velvet rope, the lights dim and chairs resting upside down upon the counters and tables. Magnus eyed the reserved seating in the dark corner, blocked off by a partition for privacy. They’d never met up this early in the day while the bar was still closed. He felt exposed and vulnerable without the security of their usual table, and the broad daylight that poured in from the bakery half’s bright windows did not help the matter. Just as a woman popped her head out from the kitchen to greet her customer, another voice called out from Magnus’ right.

“Over here, big guy.”

Resisting the urge to close his eyes in annoyance already, Magnus pulled his attention from the bar and turned his head. Tucked in the corner of the rustic styled bakery side, Exec- no, _John,_ as he so fervently insisted, sat in all his expensive-looking glory, an open paper box containing an assortment of overdesigned pastries and a huge coffee ordered to-go sitting on the table before him. Magnus hesitated, wondering just how tired he had to be to completely miss seeing John upon entering. His sharp, high-dollar look clashed incredibly with the homey, run down atmosphere of the bakery. If keeping a low profile had ever been in his intentions, he’d failed miserably at it. His bright, beaming smile played across his face as usual and Magnus figured the man didn’t even know how to be anything _but_ excited.

“Come, sit. You hungry? Did you eat breakfast? You look terrible. Please,” he pushed the box nearer to Magnus as he sat in the chair across the small table, “help yourself. I actually have a mild nut allergy so I can’t eat them myself, so please.”

Magnus just shook his head at the offer, his eyebrows furrowing as the peculiarity registered. “Then why did you…” He knew it was pointless to ask, but he couldn’t stop himself before he was half way through the sentence.

“I’m glad you asked.” John’s eyes narrowed, causing his smile to transform into something closer to a sinister smirk. “I buy them just to look at them. I think they’re quite pretty.” He closed the box and moved it to the corner closest to himself before taking a sip from his coffee, raising his eyebrows. “So, if you’re done spurning my generosity, shall we get to the point? I have somewhere I need to be.”

As he tried to steel himself to the possible responses to the question he had, Magnus slid over the bursting envelope of money from the night before, which John eagerly pocketed. But before Magnus could get a word out, John waved his hand towards the front counter. Magnus turned his head just in time to see the woman from the kitchen step out and move to the entrance, flipping the _OPEN_ sign around and turning the lock on the door with a click. As she strode back past the counter and into the kitchen, Magnus recognized her face as one of the bartenders that always seated him when meeting up with John on their normal schedule.

“I know, she’s lovely, but eyes over here, Dev. Or at least give me the one that works.” John drummed his fingers against the table impatiently.

  “John.” It felt weird calling him such a simple name, but he _insisted_ to the point of not responding when called otherwise. “I have a request.”

“I figured as much.” He stared intently at Magnus, smile faint now but still ever present. With Magnus asking to meet him at such short notice, his intentions were no doubt obvious. “Let’s hear it, then.”

“I’ll get straight to the point. I need today off.”

 _“Need?”_ John’s eyes widened in feigned shock. “Don’t you _need_ the money more?”

Though he had anticipated the question, Magnus could not respond.

“How are things going, by the way?” His eyes smoldered at the question. “Your nephew making a good recovery?”

“I’ve been running for you every day since I started. I just need today off. That’s all I’m asking.  You’ve got other runners-”

“Take today off,” John interrupted suddenly. “And the next day. And you know what? How about you take the rest of the week - no - rest of the new _year_ off.”

Magnus’ blood ran cold, freezing him completely motionless, but he didn’t have enough time to react before John was laughing and shaking his head.

“Jesus, don’t look so scared! I’m just fucking with you! Take today and tomorrow off, it’s fine. _Really.”_ He was grinning from ear to ear, no doubt reveling in Magnus’ terrified expression. “I mean it when I say I wouldn’t want you running off on me. I’ve invested a lot in you, you know. It’d be a damn shame to lose such a devoted worker, and something I’ve put _many_ resources into.”

Still trying to recover from the heart attack he’d just been delivered, Magnus remained silent.

“Ah, well, judging from how you just went white as a sheet, I’d say you still need the money.” He adjusted himself in his seat, raising an eyebrow. “So what’s got you suddenly needing vacation days?”

“I’m just- I’m tired.” Not entirely a lie, at least.

“Oh, already knew that just by looking at you. You got that keeper of the crypt look going on, Dev. Worse than your nephew when you first pulled into the den I was running that night. You remembering to eat?”

Magnus opted not to reply.

“Okay. Dev. I’m gonna tell you something.” John leant in over the table slightly, taking up a more rigid posture. “And I want you to listen to this closely, because I’m taking time from a very tight agenda this morning for you. Motivation leads to success.”

“Yeah?” Magnus breathed. “Who knew.”

John only smiled but did not remove his icy stare. “I still don’t care what put you into this situation. But that doesn’t mean I’m not secretly rooting for you and your nephew. You’re new to the whole gig but you’re one of my best runners. Y’know why? It’s because you kneel to my every beck and whim. You have just enough attitude to make me laugh every now and then, but at the end of the day you still suck up to me for every penny, every drop of insulin or antibiotics or whatever the fuck you can get out of me. I completely, _perfectly_ own you. I could put you back on the streets to freeze to death, so you know better than to step out of line.” His words cut just as slowly and precisely as they came. “But that’s not really _you_ , is it? You’ve never been one to suck up to others, especially those younger than you, like myself. But here you are, doing things against what your conscience is telling you.”

Read like an open book, Magnus was rendered completely immobile. He wanted to make a retaliating retort, to tell him to hurry it up and get to the point, but just as John had said, it would only be a cute little bluff to save face and nothing more, and then Magnus would go right back to doing everything asked of him. Even if he had been denied the day off, Magnus would have had no choice but to accept it and go back to work, leaving Toki to fight the swelling of his throat alone. He had Magnus right where he wanted him. But if it meant staying alive-

“Failure. Failure, in whatever it is you’re doing, is not really an option, is it? So much so that something tells me you’d do _terrible_ things to get what you want. And somehow I doubt that it would be your first time.”

“You don’t know a thing about me.” The accusation hit a bit too close to home to go unchecked, despite being true.

But John only laughed, kicking back in his seat again. He shook his head but his eyes remained locked on Magnus’. “There you go again. I don’t think I employ a single person in every business that I run that makes me laugh as much as you do. Dev, the point I’m trying to make here is that _I understand.”_ His voice drew back into a more serious tone. “Without doing terrible things - without the right motivation to do them - I wouldn’t be here with you right now. I wouldn’t be making more money in a week than most see in entire lifetimes.” He waved a hand as if dismissing the fact as if it were nothing. “But a legacy built on _illustrious riches_ isn’t my end goal. Having the poor and homeless and depressed ruin their lives, OD, and die isn’t my end goal. I’m still working, day and night, on getting what I actually want. But that’s the thing about people like me. We want something and we want it with every fiber of our being, so we do everything in our power to make sure we get it. We don’t care if we hurt ourselves or others in the process. From the people whose lives I’m ruining by being the supplier to their addictions, to the desperate idiots who put themselves in the line of fire and do all the dangerous work for me,” he tilted his head towards Magnus slightly, raising his eyebrows with a smile, “along the line, getting to my end goal kills people. It _has_ killed people. And it will kill more people.”

“So, I’m your pawn. I get that. I’m not doing this unwillingly.” Magnus tried to keep the conversation going to avoid dwelling on the faces of the people who died to get him where he was right now, but John would not relent.

“Think about how many lives your ambitions have ruined. How many have suffered because of you? Think of the ones that still have yet to die. And then think of that _end goal._ That one thing that you want the most, _more than anything_ in this terrible world.”

Normally, Magnus would have scoffed and shrugged, not even humoring such melodramatic talk – but each word was a thousand needles to his heart, causing him pause…and consideration. And Magnus shook his head slightly. “It isn’t possible for me to get what I want.”

John stared intently, his face straight save for the faintest trace of anger in his eyes. His lips thinned as he seemed to hold back what he truly wanted to say as he ruminated on some mysterious thing that Magnus probably wouldn’t understand. And then finally he spoke, his head nodding slightly. “Find a way to make it happen. That’s what we do. If one way doesn’t work, you find another one. Even if it means putting yourself at risk. But the sacrifices you have to make to see yourself through to the end…as long as you live and breathe your conviction, it doesn’t matter how many people die at your hand.” For the first time, Magnus could not detect even a shadow of a smile on the man’s face. Eyes locked onto Magnus’, he nodded faintly. “It’s obvious I’m only helping you for my own gain, but I truly am rooting for you, Devin.  I mean it, from the very bottom of this rotting heart,” he pressed a hand against his chest, “I only hope for the best for you and your nephew. With all the lives I’ve ruined, and taken, it might not mean much. But I would hate for you to become just another pair of names on the list, especially when I honestly believe our end goals are different, but the same.”

Magnus nearly gawked as John leant back in his chair, letting his expression soften and finally releasing the tension his proximity and tone had been generating. John sipped at his coffee, muttering about it being lukewarm before releasing a sigh. His smile finally returned.

“Devin. I’m glad you got me today, actually. This is the last time you and I are going to see each other.”

“…What?”

“Don’t worry yourself up some new grey hairs, now.” Suddenly, John was back to his usual self like nothing had happened at all. “This was always going to happen, but you’ve made me realize I should push it up a little earlier. You’ll still be making the same money, doing the same thing. Only difference is, you’ll be picking product up from and passing the money off to someone else. I’m not going to be on the field anymore.”

“…Why?” A stupid question, if there ever was one.

“This is how it used to be. See, I’m a busy man and I always have been. Shouldn’t have even taken me this long to get off the field but couple months back, shit happened that required me to closely monitor my people, transactions, running, the usual. Y’know. Slip ups happen. Guy you got that phone from was part of that mess. Anyway, I got that shit cleared up and you’re doing a great job replacing him. Fantastic, even. It’s like you don’t do anything _but_ run for me.” He flashed a smirk, continuing when Magnus did not return it. “But again, don’t worry too much. I think I forgot to mention I own this joint. We’ll cycle over to a cafe I got across town - you’ll blend right in with the demographic there – in less than a month. But until then, business like usual. That lovely lady you were eying earlier will be keeping tabs on things as always. You’ll be just fine.”

“This new guy – what does he look like? Do you have a name?”

“Oh yeah, duh. What you’ll be looking for is this big, burly son of a bitch. He’s got this crazy beard – anyway, his name’s Viago. Fuckin’ _Viago._ Yeah, swears it’s real.” He stood up suddenly with a rather exaggerated stretch. “That’s it, then. I really do have to go. Weeks might seem long without seeing my beautiful face all the time, but you’ll get used to it.” He tucked the box of pastries under an arm and picked up the cup of lukewarm coffee, using his free hand to reach out as he passed Magnus, giving him a firm pat on the shoulder – only for Magnus to turn and instinctively snatch him by the wrist. Magnus’ eyes widened has he realized what he’d done, letting go as quickly as his stiff fingers would allow.

“I…” Magnus didn’t know how to defend himself but neither could he bring himself to apologize. His skin still crawled from the touch.

But John simply peered at Magnus through the corner of his narrowing eyes as his fox-like grin split even wider. “You take care of yourself now. And don’t forget to enjoy your days off.” He flipped the storefront sign back over, and with a click of the lock and the chime of the bell, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

When Magnus returned to the hotel room, he still hadn’t managed to find the words he’d hoped to speak. Instead, Everything John had said flooded his mind, but he could hardly make any sense of it. If John had been trying to give Magnus advice, all he had done was given him a migraine instead. When Toki looked up at him, half asleep and still on the bed with a drying towel at his throat, there was no trace of excitement, no lively spark that lit up behind the blues of his eyes like usual when Magnus returned. Instead, he only turned his head back towards the TV in silent shame. And though he desperately wanted to say something, to tell him the real reason why he’d asked for time off, Magnus could not manage a single utterance.

At first the words were swallowed back as they rose up in his throat, as if they would choke him on their way out, as the hours of silence made way for night, and the night broke for day, Magnus found the desperation to speak no longer fought with him, and soon the days and nights came and went as Toki recovered without more than a handful of words exchanged between the two entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love finishing chapters at 3am bc my tolerance for proofreading is at all time lows so i technically save time by completely not doing it. also holy shit im so glad i wont ever have to write this guy's melodramatic tangential talking anymore he literally dominates the dialogue and makes me feel weird about having 4 paragraphs in a row by one person lololol  
> also uh happy thanksgiving to all my US buddies


	25. Lying in Wait

Two and a half weeks passed with little to no trouble. Magnus’ work continued on as if nothing had changed, save for increased efficiency. The man who took John’s place was almost refreshing after having to sit through a story or judgmental suggestion every time he turned in assignments. The new guy, his coordinator, as he explained on their first meeting, had thankfully been a man of few words and Magnus didn’t mind in the slightest when it meant he could just go home faster…not that there had ever been much to do back in the hotel. Though Toki had recovered well over the past two weeks, all things considered, and the threat of fatal complications had gradually disappeared from the laundry list of things to worry about, their exchanges remained stiff and concise. Magnus knew the silence could easily be remedied if he simply chose to talk to Toki, but every single topic seemed facetious in the face of what had happened.

Perhaps it was better that way, Magnus conceded as he heaved out a sigh and cast his gaze to the doorway of the restaurant’s entrance. He had been waiting for nearly an hour for his guy to arrive and relieve him of the money he’d collected, and in his increasing boredom, his mind had begun to wander. He sat in the usual spot on the bar half of the building, which had been open for quite some time now and yet remained unusually empty aside from himself and the usual two bartenders. Looking down at his phone, Magnus checked the time. His self-proclaimed coordinator had yet to be late, but he wouldn’t bother him with a text or call just yet. Instead, he let his mind continue to wander through dull musings. This coordinator, handpicked by John himself it seemed, had certainly chosen an idiotic pseudonym. Magnus couldn’t believe for one second that a guy who spoke perfect English could be named something so stupid sounding. It might have been both a blessing and a curse that he wouldn’t have much reason to tell Toki about the new guy at all, let alone his name. It was incredibly easy to imagine Toki stumbling over the name _Viago_ and somehow coming out, in all his innocent mistakenness, with the name _Viagra_. ‘It doesn’t even sound the same,’ he knew he would shoot back despite knowing that _that_ wouldn’t stop Toki from messing up a word. And of course Toki would try to retaliate, but ultimately fail when he realized just what he’d said.

Snapping back to reality, Magnus wiped the smile off his face as soon as he noticed it, flashing a look back down at the phone’s clock. It had been more than an hour now, and still nothing had changed. Looking up, he couldn’t recall if anyone had even entered the bar since he had arrived. From his sectioned off corner, he couldn’t see much of anything beyond the privacy partition, but when he shifted in his seat just enough, he could see one of the tables from the open floor – and one of the bartenders wiping it down. Not liking where his mind had been drifting, Magnus watched her idly as she worked. He had felt incredibly stupid for thinking otherwise when John had revealed he owned the restaurant. A heavy weight had been lifted off Magnus’ chest when it became clear that the employees here were undoubtedly knowing members of the drug trafficking network, same as himself. The bartenders and other staff certainly knew his face by now and he had grown rather familiar with theirs, despite avoiding eye contact at every opportunity. Stifling a yawn, he continued to watch her as she scrubbed down a table that hadn’t even been used all evening, her dark hair tied up save for the bangs that veiled the side of her face. She looked thinner than usual – Magnus shook his head, rolling his eyes at his asinine thoughts born of boredom. As he pushed back in his seat, he could have sworn she flashed him a smile as their eyes met for a split second, even through the curtain of her bangs.

Shaking it off, he checked his phone again. Never before had Magnus had cause for concern because their meetings had always on time and the money never sat with him too long. When John was there, he felt physically and mentally assured that everything was just fine, no matter how long he blabbed after the handoff. Why would he linger if he ever felt he was at risk, after all? But as the minutes crept by and still not a soul entered the bar, a strong sense of unease began to settle in. Picking up the phone once more, he fired off a text to John, praying for _something_ to calm his mind, but checking constantly for the time and any sort of update yielded nothing but increased anxiety until Magnus couldn’t bear to sit still any longer. Running off with the money would have been dangerous and foolish, but waiting around quickly began to seem the stupider of the two options. In a last ditch effort, he called John’s number for the first time, hoping he’d get some kind of answer even if it meant being chewed out for bothering him. When he only received the automated answering machine, Magnus’ stomach sank. Swallowing, he hung up before he could leave a message.

He rose to his feet, selecting the number for the new guy as he moved around the partition to the front door, and then, only a foot away from it, the door opened. Magnus nearly jumped out of his skin as he tore his eyes from his phone, the muffled sound of a ringtone filling the air. There his coordinator stood, staring Magnus down as if _he_ were the guilty one for trying to leave with the money. Buried in his coat somewhere, Magnus watched frozen in his tracks as the man unearthed his phone and ended the call before it had even started – and then set it to silent it with a click. Magnus opened his mouth as if to tear into him for being late, but as the man’s gaze now looked past him rather than at him, Magnus felt an overwhelming urge to simply _get out._ His path completely blocked, he instead turned slowly, terror rising in his chest, to see what had so intently caught the man’s interest.

The bartender that had been cleaning the table stood behind him now, her very unfamiliar face expressionless. Magnus recoiled as his situation sank in but before he could turn his body back around, a flash of something dropped over the top of his head and then a sudden and intense pressure was at his throat, pulling him backwards. There was the burn of vicious friction against his skin and the stern and steady force behind him, pulling, tightening, keeping a perfect and clean constriction even as Magnus frantically fought against it, trying to gasp for breath, clawing in futility at the rope with his dull and calloused fingertips until his eyes rolled back, his body fell limp, and a crushing darkness sucked him under.


	26. New Year, New You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't proofread :D and yes im going to change this chapter title like tomorrow or smth but its 1am and i dont have enough brain cells left  
> edit: i never changed the title. its stuck like this now, i guess

Toki had not forgotten the general rule that he was not to leave the hotel room. It had been implicit even after Magnus had mellowed out. And though he longed for freedom, he didn't have much of a mind to leave the hotel room. His reasons were contrary to what would be common sense. Magnus feared the commotion of Toki being recognized and how it would certainly put them at risk, but Toki saw it differently.

He hadn't felt like 'Toki Wartooth from Dethklok' since the night Magnus had cut his hair, and someone approaching him from a perspective that now felt so foreign to him caused him no end of fear, it was true, nevermind their situation being compromised. And yet...with all his time on the streets, and the Christmas Eve he and Magnus had spent in the crowded public, he couldn't lie to himself. That not one person had even so much as glanced at him... Perhaps it was his stubborn pride, still rooted deep within him after all this time, that held him hostage to the past. The sting to the ego that neither he nor Magnus could stomp out remained. Of course, it made sense that no one would give a second thought to some scrawny, sickly looking creep, robbed both of context and his signature appearance. Added to the fact that people, more often than not, averted their gazes when catching sight of Magnus in the slightest, it wasn't likely much of anyone would have recognized him for who he had been. No, being a nobody again wasn't hard to imagine at all when Dethklok was undoubtedly maintaining the image that nothing had happened...and that Toki, still part of the band, looked the same as ever.

He'd heard somewhere - he couldn't remember where or even when, perhaps one of the many nights when Magnus had left the TV on after falling asleep, but Toki knew he hadn't dreamed it - that Dethklok had held at least one concert since he'd been missing. Toki knew better than to doubt the feasibility of such massive deception. Offdensen had always been more than capable of managing the impossible. He would do all the hard work. Skwisgaar would take care of the missing rhythm guitar. It was simple to understand how they'd keep going, even for Toki.

As he sat in bed with nothing to do but let his throat heal, the question of how long the band could keep up the ruse before inevitably replacing him with some grand orchestration plagued his idle thoughts, but by the third day he forced himself to no longer dwell on matters of little concern. Magnus had hung back the first two days to not-so-inconspicuously monitor his condition, never once admitting to the truth of course, and had been a welcome presence during the worst of it all, but after three days of feeling bad for himself, Toki had had enough. He had never been a fan of being left alone all day, but having Magnus awkwardly lingering about was a feeling almost foreign to him now.  He was grateful for the ice and cold, wet towels for his throat, and Magnus never once objected to his requests for water, but the only times he left the room were to bring food up. Confined to the bed and being monitored and taken care of like a child, Toki couldn’t help but feel even more helpless and useless than usual. On the first day, Magnus had gone out just once. He’d covered it up by saying he had to turn in the money from the night before, but after just one day of staying back in the hotel, Toki knew Magnus had asked for time off. It agitated him to know that once again, he was the one holding them back.

In just three days, though the bruise remained, the damage to Toki’s throat had shown itself to be much less than they’d assumed, allowing him to breathe, swallow, and eat with little trouble. But in the same time, he found himself beyond restless. Sure, he had found the time to accept the reality concerning Dethklok, but there was so much more troubling him. How could anyone have a brush with death and feel content to just resume an idle life, rotting away? Something had begun to stir within him as he grew resentful towards his uselessness. Wasn’t it time he did something different? Instead of being more weight to carry, wasn’t there something he could do to help? Even if it was just so that he wasn’t so goddamned frail, he knew he had to change something. Being stuck in the same room for the rest of his life wasn’t on the agenda anymore. He could feel his mind and body had begun to rot. On a superficial level, they had been keeping him alive with insulin and antibiotics and ice, but he hadn’t felt so dead since he’d escaped from the basement. He’d grown numb to his numbness. To change it up, he would have to break some rules.

Sliding the spare room key off the top of the dresser cautiously, Toki felt a familiar spark again – the same as when he knowingly took Magnus’ belt to… He stopped himself there. This was nothing like that. This wasn’t a stupid decision. It was only fair, and nothing was stopping him from stepping out into the hallway. No one knew him. No one had reason to recognize him. And if Magnus could go out every day for hours at a time without running into the Assassin, Toki was sure to be just fine.

Taking a different route around the halls of the hotel, Toki took his time exploring in order to work up the nerve to actually leave. He’d intended just to visit the café across the street but made it no further than the first floor of the hotel before he stopped dead in his tracks. He found himself staring through large tinted glass windows leading to the gym that he had never walked past. On the mornings he went down for the free breakfast, he would go single path, eyes forward and to the ground. And now here he was, just down the opposite hall he always took, eyes growing wide as it dawned on him that, all this time, there had always been a gym just a few minutes away from their room. He smacked his forehead on the glass as he leaned in to see inside. Only one person was using the equipment, and he was wearing headphones. Toki gravitated toward the door, gingerly bringing the keycard up to the scanner. Forget going outside. This was all he could have asked for. The machine clicked and with a beep, the LED light lit green. The door was unlocked. It was that simple. Toki gritted his teeth as he entered the room.

If he had only noticed the gym when they first arrived, he was certain things would have been different, even if only slightly. In time he would up the courage to venture out into the streets while Magnus was out, but until then, Toki was content with spending most of the day in the gym. More to save his own ass and prevent anymore misunderstandings, Toki wanted to tell Magnus about his daily excursions, but the chance of Magnus reacting badly weighed heavily on his mind. After all, Magnus always came home later than earlier, he rationalized, and Toki always made sure to come back to the room well before the evening.

For two weeks, everything went smoothly. Toki’s timing was perfect. Magnus always returned too tired to suspect anything anyway. It almost made him feel guilty at times, when with every day that he had begun to feel better and better, Magnus only seemed to grow more and more weary. But Toki couldn’t bring himself much to care. Magnus still barely spoke. It was well past time to get over the incident, Toki felt, but Magnus seemed to remain stubbornly stuck to his grudges – or whatever it was that was holding him back. Instead, he worried himself more with how much further he could push himself physically. It wasn’t all that long ago that he couldn’t even stand. He’d come a lot further than he gave himself credit for. Back then, he’d built his atrophied muscle back up with nothing but his willpower, forcing himself to stretch and stand straight with makeshift fishing wire sutures in his back and stomach. Now he had a multitude of resources at his fingertips and no room for excuses. Even the extreme soreness during the first few days was more than welcome. It paled in comparison to that had come before and while he slept in his chair at night, the ache in his muscles and bones served as proof of positive change. The exercise itself even forced him to regulate his blood sugar more frequently than he had been before. Two weeks, and Toki felt like he could take on the world. If Dethklok ever ran into him again, he didn’t want to be seen as he had been – sickly and weak and half given up on life. If the Assassin was going to get him eventually, at least he could say he’d died with some dignity left.

As he waited for the water to heat, Toki stood naked before the mirror of their bathroom, examining his body. He’d just finished the day’s workout and had returned to clean off two and a half hours’ worth of sweat. He couldn’t help but grin as he picked up on the little changes. His body was filling back out and real muscle was beginning to develop. His diet was still lacking but since he started hitting the gym he’d had more of an appetite than ever. As he slipped into the shower, however, his thoughts slowly drifted to Magnus’ condition. The more and more aware he grew of the shape his body had been in, the more his concern began to mount. It was no mystery that Magnus was self-destructive. There was a fair chance that him not talking to Toki was part of that. If he continued to bury himself in work, only to come back to the room and sleep just to start the cycle over again in the morning, how much longer would he last? At least on Christmas Eve, he seemed interested in _enjoying_ something. But back then was the closest they had been to having normal, not entirely unpleasant interactions. As bitter as Toki had been feeling since his drunken mistake and Magnus’ following silence, he couldn’t say he himself wasn’t also to blame. It was time for someone to concede, and Toki knew if it wasn’t him, it wasn’t going to happen within whatever time they had left.

Just as he made up his mind to apologize to Magnus properly and begin breaking down the walls again, the sound of the TV met Toki’s ears through the roar of the showerhead. His stomach dropped – Magnus was back already? If he had stayed even an extra thirty minutes… He exhaled and finished his shower at his own pace. Magnus would be there when he got out and every minute he could buy was another to steel himself for the conversation he hoped they would have, which luckily didn’t include the matter of him leaving the room _just_ yet.

He dried and dressed, psyching himself up in the mirror. Finally, he opened the door and stepped out into the room-

-and ice filled his veins.

A woman sat at the foot of the bed, just feet away, her arms propping her up behind her, sitting languidly as if she owned the place. She turned her head as Toki exited the bathroom, her face lighting up with a wide, terrifying smile. And for a moment, her air of assurance, like _she_ was the one expected to be there, caused Toki to believe for a fleeting moment that he had indeed returned to the wrong room. But of course he hadn’t. And then a glint of metal caught his eye. He hadn’t even noticed the man standing at her side who now brandished a handgun in his direction. Toki immediately noted the silencer. They were not there to fuck around.

“About time.” Her voice was like lighting shattering glass. Rising to her feet, she lifted something up at her side but Toki couldn’t tear his eyes from hers. “Come here. Don’t be shy.”

Toki had no choice but to obey, willing his knees to work just for a few agonizing steps. He stopped with some distance between them yet, but she seemed satisfied enough.

“We’re going to go on a little walk,” she said, shoving the thing she picked up into Toki’s arms. He looked down just enough to see that it was his jacket. “Shame you just got out of the shower. It’s fucking cold out there.”

And then everything was happening all at once. Hands shaking, he pulled on his boots and tied up the laces with a gun to his head. Before they set out down the hall, the man removed the silencer and pressed the barrel between Toki’s shoulder blades, walking just close enough behind to almost perfectly conceal it. It hardly mattered, in the end, as the woman led the way to the empty elevator, taking it to the first floor in an ear shattering silence, then leading down the hall to a side exit. They encountered no one along the way until they stepped outside, the cold bitter winds biting into his wet scalp. A black car was parked in front of the exit, its exhaust spewing out white clouds as it ran, waiting. There was a nudge against his spine; his escort’s way of urging him to move forward. As they drew closer, the man opened the door and ordered Toki inside, following to sit next to him, the barrel of the gun never once leaving his direction. The woman slipped into the passenger’s seat with a yawn after they were all seated.

“It’s chilly, isn’t it?” she managed between yawns, rubbing at her eye through leather gloves. “Don’t worry. We’ll warm you up here in a bit.”

But Toki could barely hear her words through the blood rushing in his ears. Had someone recognized him after all? Was this all for ransom? Or was it all to deliver him to the Assassin? Frozen in terror, he couldn’t even bring himself to swallow or blink. And what of Magnus? Would he come back to an empty room after all? Toki felt a sigh in the form of a faint laugh escape his lips.

So much for the apology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the latter half of this chapter takes place the same day as the last, just for the record.  
> also next chapter should make up for all this time i've taken :V a fair amount of it is already written, but unlike these past several chapters, i want the next one to be perfect. i can only promise that 1. itll be nice and intense and 2. it'll be long.  
> please look forward to it.


	27. The Answer

Voices were arguing. Someone began yelling in anger.

Magnus blinked, lifting his sagging, pounding head to take in his surroundings. He was on the floor in a dark room, back to a cold wall. The biting winter cold cut in from the open, glassless windows that had once been sealed by the half attached plastic tarps flapping in the occasional gust of wind. Snow from an earlier flurry lined the edge of the window above him, piling on the floor where Magnus now sat, chilling him to the bone. Looking forward, Magnus noted the singular metal chair and something underneath it resting in the center, but that aside, the room was mostly bare aside from the rubble and materials typical of an abandoned construction site. Metal beams stood, exposed and naked, illuminated by the two construction lamps placed on either side of the room. The lights were blinding and created harsh shadows, leaving Magnus squinting as he tried to see beyond them.

The lights didn’t help his pounding head. Trying to push himself into a better position, he quickly found that his hands and feet had been bound tight. The last few moments before he’d blacked out suddenly rushed him, snapping him fully awake with a short gasp.

Shit.

He struggled against the ties that kept his hands locked behind him, but the thin plastic only threatened to cut into his skin.

“Finally, you’re up.”

_Shit._

Magnus jumped at the voice, a sinking feeling crawling over him as he looked up in its direction. A figure sauntered out from the darkness of the back half of the room, leaving the side of another person whose silhouette remained collected and still.

The woman who emerged from the shadows circled around the chair before falling into it, crossing her legs languidly and pulling her leather gloves tighter as she sized Magnus up through narrowed eyes.

“But still, bad timing. You just missed him.” She tapped the foot that still touched the ground as she thought, then leant forward, staring deep back into Magnus. The light fell on her face almost hauntingly, the light and dark playing off the structure of her face. A fog plagued Magnus’ mind but he now recalled the moments before he’d blacked out as clear as day. The woman sitting before him was not the same as the one at the café.

A grin cracked over her face not unlike John, but her wide smile seemed to light up her entire presence. Where ice was in his eyes, fire burned in hers. Perfectly opposite of his sharp and calculated air, everything about her seemed unpredictable and wild. Magnus knew he had no room to bluff but the way she looked down at him like a butcher to a lamb pushed him over the line.

“The fuck do you want with me?” he snarled, lurching forward and struggling viciously against his bindings.

There was a click to his left and the woman raised her eyebrows.

“Ah-ah-ah. No sudden movements. Not if you _actually_ want to know what’s going on.” She nodded her head to her right and Magnus’ gaze followed. The click had come from a man standing to his left, the metal of a gun dressed with a suppressor glinting off the lamplight. Magnus recognized him immediately as the man who had taken John’s place and the one who had strangled and undoubtedly taken him to this place to begin with. But neither the gun nor his presence were hardly shocking. It was the body at his feet that stole the breath from his lungs.

Face pale like marble carved in a permanent display of pain and horror, cheeks bloodied and tear-streaked, John stared off at nothing. There was no trace of there ever having been a smile on his lips, now caked with dried blood, and his eyes seemed robbed of their always sharp gleam. There was no light in them at all, save for the blinding sheen from the lamps. Magnus swallowed hard. He had seen this look before – he’d seen it far too many times.

“Amon Lee Duplantier. Age 29. The man you’ve been working for.”

Magnus tore away from the sight, but not before noticing his only visible hand had been lessened a few fingers.

“…Incredibly successful entrepreneur, stock market gambler, CEO…” The woman stood from her chair, strolling over to his body. Letting out a dejected sigh, she rolled his head over with the heel of her boot. It swiveled _far_ too smoothly and turned further than it should have. Magnus’ stomach churned. “He was a very private person, despite owning two hotels and seven bars and restaurants in the downtown area alone. This place was actually supposed to be his third hotel, but progress was halted due to life fucking him in the ass, leaving all of us with this eyesore…” She knelt and pressed his face between her fingers, scowling down at him. “Makes a good place to dump the trash though.” She moved past the guard who still pointed his gun at Magnus and squatted down to dig through a lump of cloth by the body’s feet. Lifting it, Magnus saw it to be John’s rather expensive looking coat. She shoved a hand into the inner pockets and withdrew three leather wallets, opening one as she sauntered back to her chair.

“Even when he purchased an entire neighborhood of section eight housing to prevent it from being demolished for gentrification purposes, they didn’t know who to thank…or for some of them, _hate_. Unsurprisingly, he had pennames and aliases for everything he did. He stayed out of the limelight even when they wanted to hail him as a _hero_. But of course it was only for his own benefit. Running a growing cartel relies on keeping a stable customer base. I’ll give him that, at least. I tended to let my customers die back then…” She thumbed through the first and second wallets, ignoring the wads of cash and dropping various forms of unmatching ID and credit card after card to the floor followed by the stripped wallets themselves. By the third wallet, a veritable mound of plastic had formed at her feet, but her interest was elsewhere. With the last wallet mostly emptied, she finally paused and smirked, staring down at what she was searching for through half-lidded eyes.

Magnus took the opportunity to scan the room once more. His eyes had begun to adjust to the lighting but he could still see very little beyond the woman and her chair. He knew another man stood there, no doubt brandishing a gun of his own, so what could he do? Zip-tied with at least two guns against him, the corpse of someone far more capable than him to his left… He wasn’t going to make it out of this one. The hair stood up on the back of his neck as reality began to set in. Was Toki still safe in the hotel at least? What would happen to him now? Magnus felt himself begin to sweat despite the cold surrounding him. Panic rising, he tried to compose himself. He wouldn’t go down without a fight at the very least. Whatever plans she had for him, Magnus wanted no part in them. He couldn’t give up yet. And then, a shred of hope found its way into his heart as the back of his hand nudged the knife holster attached to his belt. Desperately, he searched for the knife’s handle but only felt absence in its stead.

 “Looking for something?”

Despair swallowed up the budding sliver of hope as the woman looked up from the wallet with a cocked eyebrow and reached down into the deep pocket of her own jacket, lifting up his knife.

“You really didn’t think we’d forget to check you for weapons, right? Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t carrying a little more heat. I thought Amon would have at least given you a gun after what I did to his last runner for this area.” She shrugged it off, dropping the knife under the chair, letting it join the plastic jug-like object underneath it. “It just seems like such a waste after how much he put into you.”

And then the horrible sound of metal feet scraping against the concrete floors interrupted any thought going through his mind as she scooted her chair forward, nearly knocking over the plastic jug. Closer now, she brought the toe of her boot under his chin, roughly lifting his face to look back up at her.

“Weird. I really thought he’d keep hiring kids to do his dirty work for him, not some old, half blind mummy…”

Magnus recoiled with a snarl, jerking his head away, only for her to strike the underside of his jaw with the sole of her shoe. His teeth clacked together as the impact sent his head up and back, slamming into the wall behind him. Dazed for only a moment, he grit his aching jaw and struggled against the zip-ties around his wrists, but the plastic still held fast, serving only to cut into his skin the more he pulled.

 _“Hey, watch it.”_ A low grumble came from the man in the dark behind her. “Or you’ll break his neck, too.”

“I know, I know…” The woman removed her foot from his throat and adjusted herself in her chair, watching as Magnus could only glare back through his grimace. She tapped the wallet still in her hands lightly against her gloved palm as she sat, pensive.

“What do you want from me?” His voice shook, betraying the unaffected façade he fought to maintain.

“Not much, anymore. You did a lot for me, so I guess I ought to thank you, really. So thank you.” She gave a dark laugh, leaning forward and planting her elbows on her knees. “I can tell you’re a bit upset that he’s dead. Don’t be. He was just using you after all. All his little runners were just scapegoats to protect his ass from _me._ See, I was running this city before he decided to branch out from his more honorable business practices, and since then he’s been this massive thorn in my side.” She rolled her eyes with a shrug. “Investments, efficiency, stealing _my_ clientele and making them _like_ him. He was born into old money. But _me?_ _I_ had to work from the ground up. _I_ made this empire, and suddenly, right under my goddamn nose, he was taking it from me. But he didn’t know the streets. We grew up on them.” She waved the wallet she had been so absorbed with before Magnus’ interruption. “And his priorities were elsewhere.”

Magnus instinctively recoiled as she lowered herself from the chair and moved to kneel at his side, opening the wallet and slipping out two small, dingy photographs from either side. Her casual airs as she drew closer to him like they had been friends for many years prevented him from focusing on the picture until she nudged him in the shoulder. Petrified at her proximity and confused at the request, it took a moment to understand what he was looking at. The left photo featured John himself kneeling in the grass, tucked between the excited hugs of two beaming children, a boy and a girl only a few years apart, a woman laughing above them. And the picture on the right, slightly water-warped and bent despite clearly being taken some time after the first, showed that the years had not been kind to them. John sat between his children on a white bed. Both had had their heads shaved, and both wore similar hospital gowns. The boy and girl seemed genuinely happy, but their father’s smile was a mournful smile at best, his eyes reflecting the pain he was keeping locked away.

Magnus wanted to turn his head away, but John’s body faced him on the left and the woman sat at his right, close enough so that he could feel the warmth of her body. Instead he turned his eyes forward, staring past the empty chair into the dark corner of the room across from him. The man standing guard stared back with an empty expression, forcing Magnus to drop his gaze to the ground. Something, shrouded in the darkness, was at the man’s feet, but the chair and plastic jug blocked most of his view.

“Some people have all the luck,” her voice rang out in his ear, soft but sinister, bringing him back to the moment. “Both kids getting leukemia within a year of each other? _Shee-it._ He should have bought a couple of lottery tickets. Easier money than this and it would have kept him where he belonged. Would have kept him alive.” She finally stood, chucking the wallet at John’s body, pegging him in the face. “The six of us wouldn’t be here right now if you greedy shitfucks stayed where you belonged.”

…Six? Magnus froze, his eyes locked on the ground by the man’s feet. It had only been the five of them. The man to his left and the corpse he stood vigil over, the woman, and the man across the room in the corner, partially obscured by shadows and the chair. In spite of everything, he’d managed to stay relatively calm until now, but the dread filling his chest jerked him to the side to see beyond the chair, nearly falling over without his hands to balance him.

No…

_No._

“Y’know, Amon wouldn’t have batted an eyelash if I’d just taken the two of you out way earlier. The money you were bringing in was pennies to him anyway. Oh, I _know_ ,” she spoke as if validating a crying child, “it really hurts to hear it, but no one has ever actually needed you, Magnus Hammersmith.”

At his name, Magnus felt his breath hitch in his throat.

“Here, let me get that out of your way.” With that, she took the chair by its back, lifting it and setting it off to the side, then, using a foot, scooted the plastic jug slightly aside for good measure.

Tucked in the corner of the room, blanketed in darkness was Toki’s still figure. All this time he’d been there, laying on the floor, head turned towards the wall, guarded by the man standing near his feet.

“Toki!” Magnus lunged forward, struggling again against his bindings, crashing into the ground with his shoulder. _“Toki!”_ He just needed to see him move-

“Ah-ah-ah, back where you were.” The woman stepped between them, pressing cold steel against Magnus’ forehead.

The touch of the gun sent shivers up his spine. Of course she’d had one on her, too… With much effort, he pushed himself back up, falling back against the wall, but his eyes never left the back of Toki’s head.

“How’d you do it? How the hell’d you rope Toki Wartooth into your idiotic drug dealing escapades? I mean, everyone who’s even once looked up Dethklok’s younger days would know what happened to the first and only member to be kicked out. Because he was psycho, because he wasn’t nearly half as talented, because he was gay… Between the rumors and facts, all you became was a piece of trivia on old, un-updated websites all while you rotted away behind the very drugs you’ve taken a shining to selling. And finding that you were working with _Wartooth…_ Well, even that surprised me and I know _everything_.” She prodded his cheekbone with the muzzle of the gun. “It’s just such a damn shame. You were never meant to be anything, never meant to achieve greatness, make history… And look at you now. Look what you’ve done.” Her voice was dripping with condescending pity and disdain as she tilted her head back towards Toki. “You let someone with so much potential, so many years left in his youth, die. You, at the end of your old, worthless life…just couldn’t go down without taking someone with you, could you?”

“He didn’t do anything-” Magnus barely managed through his tightening throat. “He has nothing to do with the drug running or Jo- whoever the _fuck…_ just-” He shook his pounding head, pleading. “If you’re looking for ransom money, I already tried it- they won’t even look at you. They don’t want him back.” Magnus swallowed hard. “I-I don’t care what you do to me. Just please, let him go…”

She looked down at him past her nose, her lip wrinkling up in agitation. “You must be blind _and_ deaf. I said he died. He’s _dead_. Same as your best friend over there.” She motioned in Amon’s direction, but Magnus had stopped listening. Something washed over him. It numbed him. He didn’t understand. He _couldn’t_ understand. Toki was right there. He was right _there_ … He’d been _right there,_ all this time…unmoving. He…

“Sorry, buddy. When we brought him in and he saw you, he put up a fight. It got messy. If it makes you feel any better, it was a quick, hard hit to the head that did it.” She tapped her temple. “Construction sites are dangerous places. There’s a joke about hardhats in here somewhere…” She laughed to herself, reveling in the simplicity of Toki’s final struggle. “I’m not stupid enough to cross Dethklok with ransom bullshit. He was just a loose end that needed tying. Still, had plans to make it fast, more or less, for the both of you, and something a little more for fun for Mister Amon over there… But I really shit the bed with that.” She tilted her head with a crooked grin, her eyes smoldering like coals as she moved back into the center of the room, stopping next to the plastic jug Magnus had yet to think twice about. “I really fucked up, two times in a goddamn row. So now I have all these party supplies and a different guest of honor.” She tipped a jug with her foot, eyes ablaze with anticipation for Magnus’ reaction.

But he had none. He couldn’t bring himself to care that the jug that had along been sitting right before him, between himself and Toki, had been a canister full of gasoline.

His eyes remained locked on to the bloodied back of Toki’s head. Everything around him had gone silent, motionless, his body brimming with TV static, and though his pulse roared in his ears, he could hear nothing, he could _see_ nothing but what he now understood to be drying blood pooled around the back of Toki’s head, painted across the sharp corner of a red metal box. The stagnant, swallowing darkness of the corner concealed all other details. Magnus could see no rise and fall of his chest, no breathing, no movement… Only a perfect stillness and the glint of red spilled across strands of brown hair. Toki’s head and body were facing the wall, and for that Magnus was bitterly grateful. John…or rather Amon’s expression in death had been more than enough – to see Toki’s would have been a torture in and of its self. It was an image that had long plagued his dreams and wandering mind alike.

At least now he might not ever have to actually see it.

As Magnus felt a quiet breath escape his lips, he felt something else leave with it.

This was it…? This was where they ended? Even as the butt of the pistol came down across his cheekbone, then a second time into his jaw, Magnus couldn’t take his eyes off Toki. How could he be…? After he’d made it through so much… And before Magnus had been able to say…

“He really knew how to beg.” The woman forced Magnus’ face up with the barrel of the gun before grasping it tightly between her fingers, her presence demanding his eyes on her alone. “No matter how much I dug, I couldn’t find out why he was with you, but it’s clear you trained him _real_ good.” He felt blood tickle down the side of his face, spreading through his beard and dripping off the leather-gloved fingers that dug into his cheeks and pressed against his teeth through his skin. His heart sunk at her words, but his body moved on its own as it tried to turn his head just enough to see past her – just to see the back of Toki’s head once more, perhaps desperate to find even the slightest shift or twitch...

“Eyes up here, asshole!”

But his attention was locked on Toki, even as his face was violently thrown more than released, and then she was off to the middle of the room, bending over briefly and then suddenly, almost as if he had blacked out for a moment, Magnus couldn’t see Toki – he couldn’t see anything – anymore. It felt as if he’d been thrown into a shower of ice and fire but when he unconsciously blinked to get the water out of his eyes, they were immediately assaulted by an ungodly _burning_. Instinct took over as he screamed and thrashed, desperately trying to wipe the gasoline from his eyes and open cuts with his shoulder. And then something metal and cold took advantage of his crying out, crashing against his teeth before gasoline began to fill his mouth too. Magnus gagged, spitting out every drop he could, but the choking, caustic odor filled his nose and mouth, unremitting. The gasoline inundated his senses. It felt as if his face was being seared away and as he choked, the burning spread down his throat, into his lungs. He thrashed in futility, hitting the floor as he struggled in animalistic agony, but nothing eased the pain. It was only when he felt icy hands on his burning face wipe the gas from his eyes that he realized his flailing had somehow broken the plastic zip-ties that had bound them. Though the flush of tears aided in returning partial vision to his only good eye, he could neither see nor feel the blood dripping from the outer edge of his wrists where the plastic had cut down to the bone.

The woman stood above him, her wide smirk cutting across her blurry figure as he clutched his face, trying to breathe though his burning, sob-like wheezing.

“In my right hand, I have the gun. In my left hand… I have a matchbox.”

Magnus’ heart didn’t know whether to stop or to pound even harder.

“It’s your choice. If you want the bullet, I want to see you beg for it. But know I’m not easily satisfied. You’ll have to do a better job than Wartooth over there when he begged for us to let you go. And even better than Amon. He put on quite the show. Begging for the sake of your children really is something beautiful.”

At some point, Magnus had pushed himself to his knees though his feet were still bound, one quaking hand still grasping at his eyes, the other, blood-drenched and screaming, just barely holding his body up against the ground. Lifting his face, he looked again to Toki’s body. He wiped at his right eye but the lack of tears lead to burning and then tears again, serving only to obscure his vision further.

“Or, I mean, we _could_ cut to the chase. Your decision. Clock’s ticking.”

Magnus turned his gaze back to his tormentor. Gasoline dripped from his hair. The way her eyes burned in anticipation almost made the matchbox unnecessary. She knew exactly what he knew: there was nothing he could do. Even with his hands untethered, even if they had unbound his feet, Magnus could not find the strength, no less the willpower, to even stand. Three guns to him, Toki _dead_ because of him… There was no reason to even try to go on. This was it. This was finally their end. Magnus couldn’t help but grant himself a weak, raspy laugh. This was a fitting end for someone like him. It was no secret that begging would do nothing for him now. The only thing left to do was…cut to the chase, as she had so aptly put it.

Slowly he pulled his hand away from his face, his muscles fighting against him. He let his head hang as he extended his quivering index finger and slowly, painfully lifted it towards the woman’s left hand. He didn’t have to be looking at her to know how brightly her face lit up.

“Get back up against the wall.”

Magnus obeyed. He fell back against the wall with a thud, relieved momentarily by the support it gave his aching body. His head swam with his final thoughts. How long would it take for him to finally die after she threw the match? Would the fire immediately spread into his lungs and stomach because of the gasoline in them? Would anyone be able to recognize his body afterwards? He certainly hoped not. If he would be reduced to nothing but ashes, then this was perhaps a better deal than he first thought. If he could disappear from this world without a trace… He cracked his right eye open to see Toki one last time. He didn’t notice as the woman pocketed the matchbox and withdrew a silencer for the gun instead. Again, he instead he stared at Toki’s still unmoving body, his heart somehow still dragged down and down and down the longer he stared.

This was an end he deserved, right? After everything he’d done…and everything he’d caused… This was retribution. And certainly even this wasn’t enough. Even two months of torture wouldn’t have been enough for what he’d done to Toki. And then there was Abigail. The three homeless people. Amon. Toki. Toki…

“Toki…” It was impossible to focus on anything other than the word that had somehow escaped his lips, even as the barrel of the silencer, now attached to the gun, pressed against his kneecap. When exactly had his pity turned into guilt, and his guilt into such heavy, torturous remorse? His chest ached as if someone had broken through his ribs and torn out his heart. And now without it, what was he but an empty, purposeless husk?

“You’re no fun.” She sat, squatting before him, shaking her head. “I’m honestly impressed you wanted to skip part one, but we’ll just take part two _real_ nice and slow…”

He should have known, Magnus thought, that asking to simply be _burned alive_ would be too forgiving. But what difference would it make? After all was said and done, how much he did or didn’t suffer wouldn’t matter. There would be no tomorrow for him. There would be no more…anything. It almost felt reassuring. How long had he wanted for this…?

Just as he closed his eyes, something, somewhere, moved.

He heard her pull back the hammer of the gun.

There was a click, and then a terrible gurgling sound-

An explosion of sound rang out-

But the gun at his knee had not gone off.

And then everything happened in a matter of seconds:

Magnus’ eyes flew open. The guard by Amon was screaming obscenities as he unloaded two bullets into the body of his partner across the room – all in an attempt to neutralize the once-presumed corpse _standing_ behind him.

And Toki indeed stood, taking cover behind the guard who grasped at his own throat, gasping and gurgling as blood dripped down his lips while he tugged in futility at _something_ that had been plunged deep into it. In a flash, Toki’s arm reached out past the safety of his flesh shield and, the guard’s own gun in hand, let loose a single bullet.

The impact sent the man at Amon’s side to the floor, the crown of his head relieved from his body and spattered against the smooth concrete wall behind him.

The woman, just as shocked by the sound, had turned to look back just before the first gunshot rang out and Magnus, acting only out of involuntary impulse, went for her gun. Immediately, she whipped back around with a snarl, fighting viciously for control. Just before her finger pulled the trigger, Magnus attempted to direct the barrel away from him but to little avail. The gun went off in his shoulder and another cry slipped from his hoarse throat but still he fought against her, his bloodied hands slippery against both the metal and her gloves.

Behind her, the figure of what he was so certain was merely the phantom of his delusional mind let go of the bullet-riddled guard, allowing his body fall onto its back. Wasting no time, Toki firmly planted his foot on the dead man’s throat, pulling the screwdriver that he’d buried up to the handle out with a tug.

He began walking in their direction and tossed the gun to the side as he approached, choosing only to brandish the screwdriver, its stained metal glimmering like a ruby in the light. Magnus’ eyes widened, causing the woman to flash a look back to see the man she thought to be dead drawing near. A wave of desperation to win the gun back nearly sent another bullet into Magnus’s arm, but summoning every ounce of strength he had left, he refused to relent despite his flooded and conflicting mind. The raging pain in his shoulder resonated with the shot fired into the wall behind him, half of him grateful, the other half wishing it had just ended it. Why was he still fighting when he’d just been so ready to die? He gripped at the hot metal of the suppressor, enduring the seconds that stretched into eternities as Toki closed in.

And finally, at the last second, Magnus realized that he wasn’t fighting to save himself.

And finally, at the _very_ last second, the woman let go and sprung towards the gun thrown to the floor-

but she was too late, and the screwdriver came down,

and down,

and down,

and down,

and down,

and down.

Magnus pressed at his bleeding shoulder with his left hand, the other, now holding the gun, falling limp at his side, no longer capable of moving. He simply stared, watching in horror as Toki tore into her. Her furious screams and grunts as she tried to fight Toki off slowly devolved into involuntary cries that betrayed her earlier demeanor. Magnus’ face twisted and he closed his eyes. He’d seen enough. He’d _heard_ enough, but he could not remove his hand from the gunshot wound just to cover his ears. He waited in agony as Toki continued, praying that he would stop at any second – but he didn’t.

Magnus opened his eyes to see, much to his shock, the woman’s hands still clawing at Toki’s blood-drenched face, still trying weakly to fend him off. Magnus knew he had to try to put an end to it.

“That’s enough…”

There was no response. Toki only continued, teeth bared, an emptiness behind his eyes.

 _“Toki!”_ The name barely made it out his ragged throat, and again, there wasn’t even the slightest hesitation in Toki’s actions. Magnus coughed, spitting gasoline-saliva to the floor, causing his gaze to fall to the gun at his side. Maybe he could… With no confidence, Magnus attempted to lift the gun with his right hand, but the hole in his shoulder prevented him from raising his arm far enough. Removing his left hand from the wound, he took the gun into it instead and aimed down the sights, but mercy did not seem to be his to give that night. His body quaked from his core outward, shaking the gun violently, and his singularly functional eye still watered and blurred. It was impossible for his aim to be true, and Toki’s erratic movements only heightened the risk of him taking the bullet instead. Giving in, he dropped his arm, letting the gun rest at his side once again, and then the woman’s arm followed suit, finally hitting to the ground. Magnus closed his eyes again, a gasp slipping from his throat.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Surely this was all just some trauma induced delusion. Toki was probably still dead and this was all just some final fuck you played out by his brain as he burned to death or bled out or _whatever_ was actually happening to him… Shit, maybe he was already in hell.

A sudden thought crossed his mind.

…Or maybe he’d been given the chance to make a choice that he still hadn’t made… His fingers twitched around the grip of the gun, and suddenly the answer became clear.

Of course. Of _course._

Magnus’ job was done. Toki was alive and there was no longer anyone in the room that could hurt him. Magnus had simply held the woman back just long enough for Toki to take her out and make his survival possible. Magnus’ role was complete. _That_ was the only reason he’d fought against her.

The now-cold mouth of the suppressor pressed against the side of his head, but his eyes remained shut. It was funny how only moments earlier he thought himself unworthy of a swift death, and now he was so eager to simply pull the trigger. But there was no need to dwell on it. As he’d concluded earlier, it didn’t matter how it happened anymore… It just had to happen. He inhaled deeply, the fumes of the gasoline flaring up in his lungs, pulled the hammer back –

_“Magnus…!”_

He hesitated, unwilling to face who was waiting for him.

“Magnus. Look at me.”

Torn, Magnus begrudgingly complied. He staved off the wave of conflicting emotion that crashed into him as he blinked, taking in the picture before him. Toki had been on his knees, moving towards Magnus before stopping mid-crawl the moment he’d lifted the gun to his head. Now he stared back, his face pale but wet with fresh blood. The pupil of his left eye, the same side as the blow to his temple, was dilated. His own blood had dried, dark and caked on the side of his face and in his hair. But he was alive…and his voice, very real but so distant, rang out through the silence again.

“Magnus, put it down…” He was suddenly so soft and gentle; the exact opposite of the Toki Magnus had just borne witness to. For the most fleeting of moments, Magnus wished again that that unprecedented violence had all been some hallucination…but the bloodied body behind Toki, and the screwdriver resting in it, were damning evidence against the simple hope. And yet, when Toki cautiously wiped his face with his sleeve, it seemed as though he wiped away what remained of the bloodthirst that had etched itself into his expression. His face was innocent again, hurt, afraid, but a kindness - the Toki Magnus thought he knew - was trying to break through it all.

Slowly, carefully, Toki began to crawl forward, little by little, uttering quiet, calming things Magnus couldn’t make sense of. He couldn’t move. He could neither pull the trigger nor put the gun down…but seeing Toki’s face, staring into the uneven blues of his eyes… The thought couldn’t leave his mind. It ran on repeat through his dizzying head. Toki was safe; moving, breathing, alive…and suddenly so much closer now. He extended a hand and Magnus flinched, causing Toki to freeze and pull back slightly.

“It’s okays now, Magnus… Put it down…” Toki tried to reach out again, this time slower.

“Don’t-don’t touch me…”

Toki paused again, thinking in silence as he stared deep into Magnus, watching for movement beyond the shaking of his hands. Everything in Magnus’ head seemed to shut down as he tried to bring himself to accept his new situation. Why was he given another chance now? He had finally accepted that there was no place for him in the world anymore, no place for him in tomorrow, nothing left for him to live for… But hadn’t he known that long ago…? So why did he keep trying to push on despite their pitiful odds? Even though it was pointless to do so, his right hand had somehow found its way to the hole in his shoulder, still pressing to stop the bleeding...all while still holding a gun to his head. Magnus felt his face twitch. Why did he beg for and cling to the scraps of life like some starving dog? Why had he been so desperate to _live_ when for decades he’d just wanted it to end?

He stared back into those blue eyes, searching for an answer he didn’t expect to find.

_“Fucking hypocrite.”_

Magnus balked, stunned by the abrupt, acidic words. Toki’s eyes had suddenly gone dark, his expression washed of any gentleness.

“How is this fairs? You thoughts I was trying to kills myself, but I wasn’t. I make a stupid mistakes, and you scream at me and then ignores me for weeks! But you get to kills yourself and leaves me here like this?!” Toki was drawing closer carelessly, his voice rising with every single word. “You made a reallies good point back then! _What am I supposed to do with another dead body?!”_ He mocked Magnus’ voice and whipped his arm out suddenly in a rough gesture towards the four dead bodies littered about the room, his heated gaze never once leaving Magnus. “If you wanted to die so bad-!”

Toki broke through Magnus’ thin and feeble defense, finally closing the space between them and grabbing the gun by the suppressor, pointing it up before claiming it entirely. Even startled, Magnus didn’t fight it as Toki liberated him from his weapon, skillfully emptied the chamber, clicked the safety on and then promptly slid it across the ground, far out of both their reaches. And before Magnus could even let his hand drop, defeated, Toki slipped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“…you should have just killeds yourself alreadies.”

Despite the cold winter air that cut in through the unfinished walls and unsealed windows, despite having been dead only moments ago, Toki’s contact, bloodied as he was, was warm…welcoming…and much to his own shock, Magnus felt no apprehension or dread. His skin didn’t crawl and he didn’t recoil at the touch. His wide eyes stung and though the worst of the gasoline burns had passed, tears welled up again, sliding down his bruising cheeks. Everything had gone silent, even the pounding in his chest. Within the hollowness that had been carved from him by Toki’s death, the warmth from Toki’s living presence slowly crept forth until a lurch in his stilled heart forced him to wake from his delirium. Suddenly, he felt _everything_ all at once with a force more powerful than he’d ever experienced. The surge of relief, regret, _every_ emotion he’d so long fought tooth and nail to suppress inundated him and finally Magnus could no longer control himself.

He began to sob, clinging to the fabric of Toki’s shirt before wrapping his one usable arm around him too, digging his fingertips into Toki’s back.

“I’m sorry…!” The words were on fire but they came spilling out nonetheless. “I’m sorry-I’m so sorry-! For everything- I’m so sorry-!” Through chokes and sobs and gasps, Magnus repeated his long overdue apology over and over until his throat ran dry and then some more. He knew he was beyond forgiveness and redemption, and he didn’t expect either. Everything he’d done to Toki was reprehensible at best. Though guilt had been plaguing him, feeling remorse meant nothing because it could _change_ nothing. Still…Magnus wanted him to hear it. He wanted Toki to know.

Toki suddenly pulled back, and Magnus leant forward automatically, reluctant to end the physical contact he’d so long and unknowingly yearned for, but Toki only looked down in shock, his hand hovering over the gunshot wound he hadn’t noticed until now.

“Were you shot?”

Magnus peeled his hand away from the sticky blood revealing the hole in fabric and flesh, below the collarbone and just shy of the joint of his arm. It would have been easy to miss. He’d been shot through the silencer and his shirt and jacket were both black, making the trailing cascade of blood nearly impossible to see in the dark of the room. Looking down at his hand and wound, Magnus felt a wave of panic and nausea rush over him. The fact that he’d been shot hadn’t processed until seeing it with his own eyes. Hot and cold flushed under his skin as the lightheadedness finally caught up with him. Pressing back down on it with both hands now, he let his head fall back and rest against the wall as Toki quickly stood, scanning his body for more damage and taking note of the bindings at his feet. He turned and surveyed the room quickly, eyes flitting from the toolbox that had nearly killed him to the knife – Magnus’ knife – that had been thrown next to Amon’s wallets.

Coughing, Magnus let his eyelids fall and open as Toki moved back and forth between the bodies and Magnus himself. A shiver found its way up his spine, then settled in his aching ribs. Had it gotten colder? Forcing himself to stay awake as his body was racked with shock, he watched as Toki cut his legs free. He then dashed to Amon’s body, stepping over the brain and skull spatter from the guard Magnus once knew as ‘Viago.’ Trapped by Amon’s empty eyes, Magnus couldn’t process much as Toki stripped his body of his white button up shirt before taking the knife and cutting it into strips. Magnus blinked for what felt like only a second, and suddenly found himself with his shirt half unbuttoned and pulled down along with his jacket over his injured shoulder. Toki gently ushered his upper body forward, peering down his back in search of an exit wound. Perhaps finding none – Magnus’ wasn’t quite sure – Toki began to dress the gunshot as best he could.

“Toki…” Magnus felt himself speak without thinking.

“Hm?” Toki kept working as he listened, next wrapping up Magnus’ wrists where the zip-ties had cut, wrapping carefully around the exposed bone.

“I’m pathetic.”

“Yeah?”

“…Yeah.” Magnus watched as Toki paused, hanging his head momentarily and running his fingers lightly across his left temple. His face twisted into a grimace. “You okay…?”

“Yeah, I’m fines, I just moved too fasts…” Toki slowly rose to his feet and exhaled before returning to Amon and retrieving his wallets, liberating every bill from the folds. “We reallies need to go. Can you stands?”

As much as he had wanted leave behind the corpses and guns, Magnus hadn’t even considered it. “I don’t know…”

“You can. It’s justs a hole in your shoulders. It’s not likes you haven’t stood in two months.” He was back at Amon, picking up his coat.

Exhaling, Magnus found his way to his feet but immediately lost balance, stumbling backwards and hitting the wall hard against his spine. It knocked the wind out of him, causing him to cough and spit out the phlegm and gasoline it brought up again. He wiped at his mouth. He felt ill.

But Toki was no longer in the mood to waste time.

“Put this on and gives me your left arm,” he all but ordered, pushing Amon’s coat into Magnus’ hands.

Magnus did as he was told, carefully maneuvering his right arm into the sleeve before pulling it on. He was grateful for the extra layer with how his body, still soaked with sweat and gasoline, shivered from the cold and shock. Without another word, Toki guided Magnus’ left arm over his shoulder and finally led him away from the impossible mess they had somehow managed to escape.

As they left the room, Toki only looked forward but Magnus felt compelled to look back.

They were alive, but he knew that, now more than ever, it meant absolutely nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also see: http://imgur.com/a/7SrpB  
> anyway, we're nearin the end now folks.  
> buckle up for whatever disappointing ending we end up with!


End file.
